Nemo tam divos habuit faventes, Crastinum ut possit sibi polliceri. Nobody has ever found the gods so much his friends that he can promise himself another day.
Life is so complicated a game that the devices of skill are liable to be defeated at every turn by air-blown chances, incalculable as the descent of thistle-down.
Life is full of chances and changes, and the most prosperous of men may in the evening of his days meet with great misfortunes.
Man's fortune is usually changed at once; life is changeable. [Lat., Actutum fortunae solent mutarier; varia vita est.]
It's funny, but... you're sort of a moving target for fortune, and you never know when it will befall you.
The two grand tyrants of the Earth, Time and Chance.
Look how men live, always precariously balanced between good and bad fortune.
Our condition as men is risky and ticklish enough. One can not be sure of himself and his fortune an hour, but he may be whisked off into some pitiable or ridiculous plight.
