Of seeming arms to make a short essay, / Then hasten to be drunk, the business of the day. |
Only man clogs his happiness with care, destroying what is, with thoughts of what may be. |
Our souls sit close and silently within, And their own webs from their own entrails spin; And when eyes meet far off, our sense is such, That, spider-like, we feel the tenderest touch |
Pains of love be sweeter far than all other pleasures are |
Plots, true or false, are necessary things, to raise up commonwealths, and ruin kings. |
Prodigious actions may as well be done, by weaver's issue, as the prince's son |
Railing and praising were his usual themes; and both showed his judgment in extremes. Either over violent or over civil, so everyone to him was either god or devil. |
Reason is a crutch for age, but youth is strong enough to walk alone. |
Reason to rule but mercy to forgive: the first is law; the last, prerogative. |
Repentance is but want of power to sin. |
Resolved to ruin or to rule the state. |
Revenge, revenge, Timotheus cries, / See the Furies arise! |
Rich the treasure; sweet the pleasure |
Roused by the lash of his own stubborn tail our lion now will foreign foes assail. |
Seek not to know what must not be reveal, for joy only flows where fate is most concealed. A busy person would find their sorrows much more; if future fortunes were known before! |