Stronger by weakness, wiser men become.
Happy the innocent whose equal thoughts are free from anguish as they are from faults.
All things but one you can restore; the heart you get returns no more.
That eagle's fate and mine are one, Which, on the shaft that made him die, Espied a feather of his own, Wherewith he wont to soar so high.
Music so softens and disarms the mind That not an arrow does resistance find.
The seas are quiet when the winds give o'er; So calm are we when passions are no more!