According to the state of a man's conscience, so do hope and fear on account of his deeds arise in his mind.
We covet what is guarded; the very care invokes the thief. Few love what they may have.
She who resists as though she would not win, By her own treason falls an easy prey.
Gain, acquired by many agents, soon accumulates.
Love is a kind of warfare.
It is expedient that there should be gods, and, since it is expedient, let us believe that gods exist.
Very slight violence will break that which has once been cracked.
The wounded gladiator forswears all fighting, but soon forgetting his former wound resumes his arms.
Let what is irksome become habitual, no more will it trouble you.
It is lawful to be taught by an enemy. Fas est ab hoste doceri.
Wine, not too much, inspires and make the mind,to the soft joys of Venus strong inclined,which, buried in excess, unapt to love,stupidly lies and knows not hom to move
Treat a thousand dispositions in a thousand ways.
Anything cracked will shatter at a touch.
I am above being injured by fortune, though she steals away much, more will remain with me. The blessing I now enjoy transcend fear.
For in this strange anatomy we wear, the head has greater powers than the hand; the spirit, heart, and mind are over all.
What is hid is unknown: for what is unknown there is no desire. [Lat., Quod latet ignotum est; ignoti nulla cupido.]
A bitter drug oft brings relief.
Have consideration for wounded feelings.
Tis on the living Envy feeds. She silent grows When, after death, man's honor is his guard. So I, when on the pyre consumed I lie, Shall live, for all that's noblest will survive.
Man's last day must ever be awaited and none to be counted happy until his death, until his last funeral rites are paid.
In war the olive branch of peace is of use. [Lat., Adjuvat in bello pacatae ramus olivae.]
In your judgment virtue requires no reward, and is to be sought for itself, unaccompanied by external benefits. [Lat., Judice te mercede caret, per seque petenda est Externis virtus incomitata bonis.]
Even pleasure cloys without variety.
Imperceptibly the hours glide on, and beguile us as they pass.
If you would conquer Love, he must be fought At his first onslaught; sprinkle but a drop Of water, the new-kindled flame expires.
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