Who then will dare to say I'm weak or timid? No, they'll say I'm loyal as a friend, ruthless as a foe, so much like a hero destined for glory.

The care of God for us is a great thing, if a man believe it at heart: it plucks the burden of sorrow from him.

He is life's liberating force. He is release of limbs and communion through dance. He is laughter, and music in flutes. He is repose from all cares -- he is sleep! When his blood bursts from the grape and flows across tables laid in his honor to fuse with our blood, he gently, gradually, wraps us in shadows of ivy-cool sleep.

The daughters of Sparta are never at home! They mingle with the young men in wrestling matches.

Alas!-but why Alas? It is the lot of mortality we experience.

What anger worse or slower to abate then lovers love when it turns to hate.

The brash unbridled tongue, the lawless folly of fools, will end in pain. But the life of wise content is blest with quietness, escapes the storm and keeps its house secure.