Obedience, you know, is Good Luck's mother, wedded to Salvation, they say.

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.

Rumours voiced by women come to nothing.

But I must bear my destiny as best I can, knowing well that there is no resisting the strength of necessity.

Search well and be wise, nor believe that self-willed pride will ever be better than good counsel.

In few men is it part of nature to respect a friend's prosperity without begrudging him.

If you pour oil and vinegar into the same vessel, you would call them not friends but opponents.