Surfeit begets insolence, when prosperity comes to a bad man.

Rash, angry words, and spoken out of season, When passion has usurp'd the throne of reason, Have ruin'd many. Passion is unjust, And for an idle, transitory gust Of gratified revenge, dooms us to pay With long repentance at a later day.

To many men well-fitting doors are not set on their tongues.

One finds many companions for food and drink, but in a serious business a man's companions are very few.

He who mistrusts most should be trusted least.

Ploutos , no wonder mortals worship you: You are so tolerant of their sins !

When we are dead; rugs are no richer than a quick-thorn bed.