Like warmed-up cabbage served at each repast, The repetition kills the wretch at last.

Revenge is always the weak pleasure of a little and narrow mind.

Wisdom overcomes fortune.

A lucky man is rarer than a white crow.

No one every suddenly became depraved.

A hairy body, and arms stiff with bristles, give promise of a manly soul.

Writing is the incurable itch that possesses many.

From where can your authority and license as a parent come from, when you who are old, do worse things?

All things may be bought in Rome with money.

Even savage animals can agree among themselves.

Every great house is full of haughty servants.

Many commit the same crime with a different destiny; one bears a cross as the price of his villainy, another wears a crown.

It is sheer madness to live in want in order to be wealthy when you die.

A third heir seldom enjoys what has been dishonestly acquired.

It is a wretched thing to live on the fame of others.

The love of money grows as the money itself grows.

They whose sole bliss is eating can give but that one brutish reason why they live.

The short bloom of our brief and narrow life flies far away. While we are calling for flowers and wine and woman, old age is upon us.

Those who desire to become rich, desire it at once.

The examples of vice at home corrupt us more quickly and easily than others, since they steal into our minds under the highest authority.

We are too quick to imitate depraved examples.

The people long eagerly for just two things. Bread and circuses.

Integrity is praised and then left out in the cold.

A man who has nothing can whistle in a robber’s face.

Two things only the people anxiously desire, bread and the circus games.

Now we suffer the evils of a long peace; luxury more cruel than war broods over us and avenges a conquered world.

Your prayer must be for a sound mind in a sound body.

The smell of profit is clean and sweet, whatever the source.