The fortune of war is always doubtful.
The day which we fear as our last is but the birthday of eternity.
One crime has to be concealed by another.
While the fates permit, live happily; life speeds on with hurried step, and with winged days the wheel of the headlong year is turned.
It is more fitting for a man to laugh at life than to lament over it.
The many speak highly of you, but have you really any grounds for satisfaction with yourself if you are the kind of person the many understand?