When Two Souls Compose A Single Song,

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

I Care For Riches, To Make Gifts To Friends, Or Lead A Sick Man Back To Health With Ease And Plenty. Else Small Aid Is Wealth For Daily Gladness; Once A Man Be Done With Hunger, Rich And Poor Are All As One.

What Else Goes Wrong For A Woman-except Her Marriage?

When The Anger Of The Gods Is Incurred, Wealth Or Power Only Bring More Devastating Punishment.

The Man Who Melts With Social Sympathy, Though Not Allied, Is More Worth Than A Thousand Kinsmen.