Remove but the temptations of leisure, and the bow of Cupid will lose its effect.

I flee who chases me and chase who flees me.

Lente, lente currite, noctis equi. Translation: Run slowly, slowly, horses of the night.

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

When a rose dies, a thorn is left behind.

There is nothing constant in the universe. All ebb and flow, and every shape that's born, bears in its womb the seeds of change.

Envy assails the noblest: the winds howl around the highest peaks.