Fortune always will confer an aura of worth, unworthily; and in this world The lucky person passes for a genius.
High honors are sweet To a man's heart, but ever They stand close to the brink of grief.
Soon all of you immortals Will be as dead as we are! Come on then, what are you waiting for? Have you run out of thunderbolts?
Prosperity is full of friends.
Anger exceeding limits causes fear and excessive kindness eliminates respect.
Sufficiency's enough for men of sense.