O Death the Healer, scorn thou not, I pray, To come to me: of cureless ills thou art The one physician. Pain lays not its touch Upon a corpse.
Ah, lives of men! When prosperous they glitter - Like a fair picture; when misfortune comes - A wet sponge at one blow has blurred the painting.
No bribes. Nothing that passes under the roof of a temple Or under the roof of the mouth, can appease heaven's anger Or deflect its aim.
They who prosper take on airs of vanity.
Too few rejoice at a friend's good fortune.
Everyone's quick to blame the alien.
But when the dust has drunk the blood of men, no resurrection comes for one who's dead.
To mourn and bewail your ill-fortune, when you will gain a tear from those who listen, this is worth the trouble.
Everyone is ready to speak ill of a stranger.
There's only few people who have strength to honor someone's achievement without envy.
Wisdom comes alone through suffering.
Rumours voiced by women come to nothing.
Time, waxing old, doth all things purify.
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.
The cure is in the house, not brought by other hands from distant places, but by its own, in agony and blood.
Old men are children once again a dream that sways and wavers into the hard light of day.
The field of doom bears death as its harvest.
Watchful are the Gods of all Hands with slaughter stained. The black Furies wait, and when a man Has grown by luck, not justice, great, With sudden overturn of chance They wear him to a shade, and, cast Down to perdition, who shall save him?
Respect the altar of Justice and do not, looking to profit, dishonor it by spurning with godless foot; for punishment will come upon you.
Ares gives his verdict without witnesses.
For wherein is life sweet to him who suffers grief?
Joy steals upon me, such joy as calls forth tears.
Time waxing old can many a lesson teach.
For in the voyage of the heart, there is a freight of hatred, and the wind of wrath blows shrill.
In the lack of judgment great harm arises, but one vote cast can set right a house.
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