Cats like men are flatterers.
The sweetest souls, like the sweetest flowers, soon canker in cities, and no purity is rarer there than the purity of delight.
A man's vanity tells him what is honor, a man's conscience what is justice.
Contentment is better than divinations or visions.
The flame of anger, bright and brief, sharpens the barb of love.
The vain poet is of the opinion that nothing of his can be too much: he sends to you basketful after basketful of juiceless fruit, covered with scentless flowers.