“To be able to say how much love, is love but little.”

The aged love what is practical while impetuous youth longs only for what is dazzling.

It is more honorable to be raised to a throne than to be born to one. Fortune bestows the one, merit obtains the other.

A good death does honour to a whole life.

He loves but lightly who his love can tell.

Ruthless striving, overcomes everything.

It is better to will the good than to know the truth.

Continued work and application form my soul’s nourishment. So soon as I commenced to rest and relax I should cease to live.

I know and love the good, yet, ah! the worst pursue.

Virtue is health, vice is sickness.

Often have I wondered with much curiosity as to our coming into this world and what will follow our departure.

How difficult it is to save the bark of reputation from the rocks of ignorance.

An equal doom clipp’d Time’s blest wings of peace.

Where are the numerous constructions erected by Agrippa, of which only the Pantheon remains? Where are the splendorous palaces of the emperors?

I saw the tracks of angels in the earth: the beauty of heaven walking by itself on the world.

And tears are heard within the harp I touch.

How fortune brings to earth the over-sure!