I am Roman, alas, because Horace is Roman.
Ambition aspires to descend
These flattering mirrors reflect imperfectly what is within; the countenance is often a gay deceiver. What defects of mind lie hidden under its beauty! What fair exteriors conceal base souls!
I would tell you I love you, Sir, if I knew what it was to love.
The manner of giving is worth more than the gift.
Happiness is meant to be shared.