He whose wisdom cannot help him, gets no good from being wise.
Category Archive: 239 BC
Let no one weep for me, or celebrate my funeral with mourning; for I still live, as I pass to and fro through the mouths of men.
O friend unseen, unborn, unknown, Student of our sweet English tongue, I never indulge in poetics – Unless I am down with rheumatics.
Here is he laid to whom for daring deed, nor friend nor foe could render worthy meed.