Time In His Aging Overtakes All Things

In Every Tyrant's Heart There Springs In The End This Poison, That He Cannot Trust A Friend.

For Mortal Kind Taketh Thought Only For The Day, And Hath No More Surety Than The Shadow Of Smoke.

It Is A Light Thing For Whoever Keeps His Foot Outside Trouble To Advise And Counsel Him That Suffers.

A Man Dies Not For The Many Wounds That Pierce His Breast, Unless It Be That Life's End Keep Pace With Death, Nor By Sitting On His Hearth At Home Doth He The More Escape His Appointed Doom.

Obstinacy Standing Alone Is The Weakest Of All Things In One Whose Mind Is Not Possessed By Wisdom.