Eurydice, dying now a second time, uttered no complaint against her husband. What was there to complain of, but that she had been loved?
Use the occasion, for it passes swiftly.
For in this strange anatomy we wear, the head has greater powers than the hand; the spirit, heart, and mind are over all.
If God be my friend, I cannot be wretched.
Our neighbour's crop is always more fruitful and his cattle produce more milk than our own.
Like fragile ice anger passes away in time.