It is hope which makes the shipwrecked sailor strike out with his arms in the midst of the sea, though no land is in sight.

Wine, not too much, inspires and make the mind,to the soft joys of Venus strong inclined,which, buried in excess, unapt to love,stupidly lies and knows not hom to move

There are a thousand forms of evil; there will be a thousand remedies.

Nothing retains its form; new shapes from old. Nature, the great inventor, ceaselessly contrives. In all creation, be assured, there is no death - no death, but only change and innovation; what we men call birth is but a different new beginning; death is but to cease to be the same. Perhaps this may have moved to that, and that to this, yet still the sum of things remains the same.

Judgement of beauty can err, what with the wine and the dark.

A thousand ills require a thousand cures.

You put aside the work that's done, and seek some work to do.