When a good man is hurt, all who would be called good must suffer with him.
No one is truly free, they are a slave to wealth, fortune, the law, or other people restraining them from acting according to their will.
Love distills desire upon the eyes, love brings bewitching grace into the heart.
Toil, says the proverb, is the sire of fame.
Fate finds for every man; his share of misery.
Happy the man whose lot it is to know The secrets of the earth. He hastens not To work his fellows hurt by unjust deeds, But with rapt admiration contemplates Immortal Nature's ageless harmony, And how and when the order came to be.