For Know That No One Is Free,

Oaths Are Not The Credit Of Men But Men Of Oaths.

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

Old Men, What Are They? Fast Fading The Leaf, Three-footed They Walk, Yet Frail As A Child, As A Dream Set Afloat In The Daylight.

The Man Who Does Ill, Ill Must Suffer Too.

There Is Advantage In The Wisdom Won From Pain.