Whoever is new to power is always harsh.
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.
Only when a man's life comes to its end in prosperity dare we pronounce him happy.
The act of evil breeds others to follow, young sins in its own likeness.
For there is no defense for a man who, in the excess of his wealth, has kicked the great altar of Justice out of sight.
When a man takes the road to destruction, the gods help him along.