It is not the oath that makes us believe the man, but the man the oath.
The adulterer dies. An old custom, justice.
The best by far is to marry in one's own rank.
For the poison of hatred seated near the heart doubles the burden for the one who suffers the disease; he is burdened with his own sorrow, and groans on seeing another's happiness.
It is an ill thing to be the first to bring news of ill.
For the mighty, even to give away is grace.