The fountains of sacred rivers flow upwards (i.e., everything is turned topsy turvy).
There is no harbor of peace from the changing waves of joy and despair.
What else goes wrong for a woman-except her marriage?
This is slavery, not to speak one's thought.
There is something in the pang of change more than the heart can bear, unhappiness remembering happiness.
If a man rejoice not in his drinking, he is mad; for in drinking it's possible ... to fondle breasts, and to caress well tended locks, and there is dancing withal, and oblivion of woe.