To the worker, God himself lends aid.

To an old father, nothing is more sweet than a daughter. Boys are more spirited, but their ways are not so tender.

When a wise man chooses a sane basis for his arguments, it is no great task to speak well.

Of mortals there is no one who is happy. If wealth flows in upon one, one may be perhaps luckier than one's neighbor, but still not happy.

Delusive hope still points to distant good.

To die with glory, if one has to die at all, is still, I think, pain for the dier.

May he die with no joy at his end, The man who won't be troubled To unlock the keys of his heart and make a friend.