Slight not what's near through aiming at what's far.
For no mortal ever attains to blessedness. One may be luckier than another when wealth flows his way, but blessed never.
Surely again, to heal men's wounds by music's spell.
Those who have not, and live in want, are a menace, Ridden with envy and fooled by demagogues.
The lucky person passes for a genius.
Let no one think of me that I am humble or weak or passive; let them understand I am of a different kind: dangerous to my enemies, loyal to my friends. To such a life glory belongs.