I hate the miser, whose unsocial breast Locks from the world his useless stores. Wealth by the bounteous only is enjoyed, Whose treasures, in diffusive good employed, The rich return of fame and frien...

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To our own sorrows serious heed we give, But for another?s we soon cease to grieve.

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Very distasteful is excessive fame To the sour palate of the envious mind, Who hears with grief his neighbours good by name, And hates the fortune that he ne?er shall find.

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To be envied is a nobler fate than to be pitied.

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Wrapt up in error is the human mind, And human bliss is ever insecure; Know we what fortune yet remains behind? Know we how long the present shall endure?

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A graceful and honorable old age is the childhood of immortality.

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Seek not, my soul, the life of the immortals; but enjoy to the full the resources that are within thy reach.

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Sweet is war to those who know it not.

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Seek not, my soul, the life of the immortals but enjoy to the full the resources that are within thy reach.

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Words have a longer life than deeds.

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