I warn the marauder dragging plunder, chaotic, rich beyond all rights: he'll strike his sails, harried at long last, stunned when the squalls of torment break his spars to bits.

Success! to thee, as to a God, men bend the knee.

Simple is the speech of truth.

Time brings all things to pass.

We shall perish by guile just as we slew.

Let there be wealth without tears; enough for the wise man who will ask no further.

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.