Of all the gods only death does not desire gifts.
High fortune, this in man's eye is god and more than god is this.
This is a sickness rooted and inherent in the nature of a tyranny: that he that holds it does not trust his friends.
On me the tempest falls. It does not make me tremble. O holy Mother Earth, O air and sun, behold me. I am wronged.
As long as there are men the bulwark is safe.
For the lips of Zeus do not know how to lie, but bring to fulfilment every word.