Most gladly would I give the blood-stained laurel for the first violet which March brings us, the fragrant pledge of the new-fledged year.
Against stupidity the very gods themselves contend in vain.
Worthless is the nation that does not gladly stake its all on its honor.
Happy he who learns to bear what he cannot change.
What shall he fear that does not fear death.
As inclination changes, thus ebbs and flows the unstable tide of public judgment.