Words are the physicians of a mind diseased.

There is no disgrace in an enemy suffering ill at an enemy's hand, when you hate mutually.

On him who wields power gently, the god looks favorably from afar.

For sufferers it is sweet to know before-hand clearly the pain that still remains for them.

I willingly speak to those who know, but for those who do not know I forget.

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.

It is a profitable thing, if one is wise, to seem foolish.