[Hermes addresses Prometheus :] To you, the clever and crafty, bitter beyond all bitterness, who has sinned against the gods in bestowing honors upon creatures of a day--to you, thief of fire, I speak.

Obedience, you know, is Good Luck's mother, wedded to Salvation, they say.

A prosperous fool is a grievous burden.

The tongue of slander is too prompt with wanton malice to wound the stranger.

Know yourself and fit yourself to new fashions. For there is a new ruler among the gods.

By polluting clear water with slime you will never find good drinking water.

I warn the marauder dragging plunder, chaotic, rich beyond all rights: he'll strike his sails, harried at long last, stunned when the squalls of torment break his spars to bits.