There is no sickness worse for me than words that to be kind must lie.
Who, except the gods, can live time through forever without any pain?
Sweet is a grief well ended.
Justice, voiceless, unseen, seeth thee when thou sleepest and when thou goest forth and when thou liest down. Continually doth she attend thee, now aslant thy course, now at a later time. These lines are from a section of doubtful or spurious fragments.
Of prosperity mortals can never have enough.
I willingly speak to those who know, but for those who do not know I forget.