Fear Hurries On My Tongue Through Want

Nor Does Night Conceal Men's Deeds Of Ill, But Whatsoe'er Thou Dost, Think That Some God Beholds It.

You Have Been Trapped In The Inescapable Net Of Ruin By Your Own Want Of Sense.

Suffering Brings Experience.

Mourn For Me Rather As Living Than As Dead.

It Is Always In Season For Old Men To Learn.