The Man Who Glories In His Luck

Delight In Splendor Is No More Than Happiness With Little: For Both Have Their Appeal.

Oh, What A Vileness Human Beauty Is; Corroding, Corrupting Everything It Touches.

The Gods Have Sent Medicines For The Venom Of Serpents, But There Is No Medicine For A Bad Woman. She Is More Noxious Than The Viper, Or Than Fire Itself.

The Brave Venture Anything.

It Is A Strange Form Of Anger, Difficult To Cure, When Two Friends Turn Upon Each Other In Hatred.