Character Is Inured Habit.

He (cato) Used To Say That In All His Life He Never Repented But Of Three Things. The First Was That He Had Trusted A Woman With A Secret; The Second That He Had Gone By Sea When He Might Have Gone By Land; And The Third, That Had Passed One Day Without Having A Will By Him.

When The Candles Are Out All Women Are Fair.

A Locanian Having Plucked All The Feathers Off From A Nightingale And Seeing What A Little Body It Had, "surely," Quoth He, "thou Art All Voice And Nothing Else.

When A Man's Struggle Begins Within Oneself, The Man Is Worth Something.

As Geographers, Sosius, Crowd Into The Edges Of Their Maps Parts Of The World Which They Do Not Know About, Adding Notes In The Margin To The Effect That Beyond This Lies Nothing But Sandy Deserts Full Of Wild Beasts, And Unapproachable Bogs.