He who sees a need and waits to be asked for help is as unkind as if he had refused it.
O human race, born to fly upward, wherefore at a little wind dost thou so fall?
O mortal men, be wary of how ye judge.
Lost are we, and are only so far punished, That without hope we live on in desire.
The glory of Him who moves everything penetrates through the universe, and is resplendent in one part more and in another less.
Fate's arrow, when expected, travels slow.