Good fortune is a god among men, and more than a god.

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.

Black smoke, the flickering sister of fire.

Zeus, first cause, prime mover; for what thing without Zeus is done among mortals?

May dawn, as the proverb goes, bring happy tidings coming from her mother night.

O Death the Healer, scorn thou not, I pray, To come to me: of cureless ills thou art The one physician. Pain lays not its touch Upon a corpse.

Don't you know this, that words are doctors to a diseased temperment?