Delusive hope still points to distant good.
Noble fathers have noble children.
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?
I have found power in the mysteries of thought.
Try first thyself, and after call in God; For to the worker God himself lends aid.
The fiercest anger of all, the most incurable, Is that which rages in the place of dearest love.