Ei sa che 'l vero parlo: ché legno vecchio mai non róse tarlo. - Petrarch

Virtue ‘gainst fury shall advance the fight, and it to the combat soon shall put to flight, for the Old Roman Valor is not dead! Nor in the Italian’s breasts, extinguish-ed.

Cities are hateful to me, friendly the woods.

Now that the time that calls me to depart
draws near, I think, or will not be too long,
like one whom losses make acute and wise,
I keep on wondering where I left the way
that leads to a safe haven on the right:
and on the one hand I am stung
by shame and sorrow making me turn back;
and on the other cannot break
the habit of a pleasure grown so strong
that now it dares to play for time with death.