Had I succeeded well, I had been reckoned amongst the wise; our minds are so disposed to judge from the event.
I love the old way best, the simple way of poison, where we too are strong as men.
Forgive, son; men are men; they needs must err.
Again, a smooth answer, signifying nothing.
The wavering mind is but a base possession.
The brave endure their labors, the cowardly are worth the cowards nothing at all.