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Reality is always the foe of famous names.

Petrarch

I rejoiced in my progress, mourned my weaknesses, and commiserated the universal instability of human conduct.
PETRARCH

Human Mourn Progress Weakness
He loves but lightly who his love can tell.
PETRARCH

Himself Light Love
Death had his grudge against me, and he got up in the way, like an armed robber, with a pike in his hand.
PETRARCH

Death Grudge Hands Himself
From thought to thought, from mountain peak to mountain. Love leads me on; for I can never still My trouble on the world’s well beaten ways.
PETRARCH

Leadership Love Mountain Myself Thinking Well World
For though I am a body of this earth, my firm desire is born from the stars.
PETRARCH

Body Desire Earth Myself Stars
There is no lighter burden, nor more agreeable, than a pen.
PETRARCH

Agreement Burden Light Pen Poet
Where are the numerous constructions erected by Agrippa, of which only the Pantheon remains? Where are the splendorous palaces of the emperors?
PETRARCH

Construction Emperor Palace
A short cut to riches is to subtract from our desires.
PETRARCH

Cutting Desire Inspirational
Reality is always the foe of famous names.
PETRARCH

Foe Names Reality
And I live on, but in grief and self-contempt, Left here without the light I loved so much, In a great tempest and with shrouds unkempt.
PETRARCH

Greatness Grief Light Live Love Myself
Man has no greater enemy than himself. I have acted contrary to my sentiments and inclination; throughout our whole lives we do what we never intended, and what we proposed to do, we leave undone.
PETRARCH

Enemy Greatness Man Propose
Hitherto your eyes have been darkened and you have looked too much, yes, far too much, upon the things of earth. If these so much delight you what shall be your rapture when you lift your gaze to things eternal!
PETRARCH

Darkness Earth Eyes Forever Sight Yourself
Hope is incredible to the slave of grief.
PETRARCH

Grief Hope Incredible Slave
Sameness is the mother of disgust, variety the cure.
PETRARCH

Cure Disgust Mother
For death betimes is comfort, not dismay, and who can rightly die needs no delay.
PETRARCH

Comfort Death Need Right
I freeze and burn, love is bitter and sweet, my sighs are tempests and my tears are floods, I am in ecstasy and agony, I am possessed by memories of her and I am in exile from myself.
PETRARCH

Bitter Burn Freeze Memories Myself Sweet

Reality is always the foe of famous names.

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Reality is always the foe of famous names.

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