Bronze is the mirror of form, wine of the heart.
This is a sickness rooted and inherent in the nature of a tyranny: that he that holds it does not trust his friends.
Only one accomplishment is beyond both the power and the mercy of the Gods. They cannot make the past as though it had never been.
Memory is the mother of all wisdom.
Pleasantest of all ties is the tie of host and guest.
But I must bear my destiny as best I can, knowing well that there is no resisting the strength of necessity.