I care for riches, to make gifts To friends, or lead a sick man back to health With ease and plenty. Else small aid is wealth For daily gladness; once a man be done With hunger, rich and poor are all as one.

The wise with hope support the pains of life.

Time will cure you, but now is your grief still young.

The gods have sent medicines for the venom of serpents, but there is no medicine for a bad woman. She is more noxious than the viper, or than fire itself.

This is slavery, not to speak one's thought.

Those whom God wishes to destroy, he first makes mad.

Only a madman would give good for evil