Those who would learn must suffer. In our own despair, against our will, wisdom comes to us.
Number, the most excellent of all inventions.
The one knowing what is profitable, and not the man knowing many things, is wise.
Since long I've held silence a remedy for harm.
Rumours voiced by women come to nothing.
The moving light, rejoicing in its strength, Sped from the pyre of pine, and urged its way, In golden glory, like some strange new sun.