Destiny waits alike for the free man as well as for him enslaved by another's might.
Beyond age, leaf withered, man goes three footed no stronger than a child is, a dream that falters in daylight.
The evils of mortals are manifold; nowhere is trouble of the same wing seen.
Learning is ever in the freshness of its youth, even for the old.
In every tyrant's heart there springs in the end this poison, that he cannot trust a friend.
The reward of pain is experience.