The people you killed seem to be in excellent health.
Oh rage! Oh despair! Oh age, my enemy!
I am Roman, alas, because Horace is Roman.
When a woman has the gift of silence she possesses a quality above the vulgar. It is a gift of Heaven seldom bestowed; without a little miracle it cannot be accomplished; and Nature suffers violence when Heaven puts a woman in the humor of observing silence.
One doesn't wish to see those to whom one owes so much.
My reason, it's true, controls my feelings, but whatever its authority, it doesn't rule them so much as tyrannize them.