He is life's liberating force. He is release of limbs and communion through dance. He is laughter, and music in flutes. He is repose from all cares -- he is sleep! When his blood bursts from the grape and flows across tables laid in his honor to fuse with our blood, he gently, gradually, wraps us in shadows of ivy-cool sleep.

He is not a lover who does not love forever.

Youth holds no society with grief.

Both to the rich and poor, wine is the happy antidote for sorrow.

It is wise to withhold one's heart and mind from men who think themselves superior.

This is sweet to see your foe, perish and pay to justice all he owes.

One loyal friend is worth ten thousand relatives.