How Delicious Is Pleasure After Torment!

Rome, If You Do Not Wish Me To Betray You, Make Enemies That I Can Hate!

As For Our Gods, We Have A Few Too Many To Be True.

How Sweet To Die After One's Enemies.

Ambition Displeases When It Has Been Sated ... Having Reached The Peak, It Aspires To Descend.

We Never Taste A Perfect Joy; Our Happiest Successes Are Mixed With Sadness.