On the bat’s back I do fly After summer merrily.

I am misanthropos, and hate mankind, For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog, That I might love thee something.

His neigh is like the bidding of a monarch, and his countenance enforces homage. He is indeed a horse.

He who has injured thee was either stronger or weaker than thee. If weaker, spare him; if stronger, spare thyself.

Why should we rise because 'tis light? Did we lie down because t'was night?

Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.

A man loves the meat in his youth that he cannot endure in his age.