Nothing mortal is enduring, and there is nothing sweet which does not presently end in bitterness.
Sameness is the mother of disgust, variety the cure.
A good death does honour to a whole life.
The end of doubt is the beginning of repose.
Hope is incredible to the slave of grief.
Alack our life, so beautiful to see, With how much ease life losest, in a day, What many years with pain and toil amassed!