Whoever Yields Properly To Fate, Is Deemed

Do We, Holding That The Gods Exist, Deceive Ourselves With Insubstantial Dreams And Lies, While Random Careless Chance And Change Alone Control The World?

Everyone Asks If A Man Is Rich, No One If He Is Good.

The Worst, The Least Curable Hatred Is That Which Has Superseded Deep Love.

Good And Bad May Not Be Dissevered; There Is, As There Should Be, A Commingling.

I Envy That Man Who Passes Through Life Safely, To The World And Fame Unknown.