The vices we scoff at in others laugh at us within ourselves.
For my part, I have ever believed, and do now know, that there are witches.
The discourses of the table among true loving friends are held in strict silence.
What then is the wisdom of the times called old? Is it the wisdom of gray hairs? No. It is the wisdom of the cradle.
Let age, not envy, draw wrinkles on thy cheeks.
Oblivion is not to be hired.