Everything flows and nothing abides; everything gives way and nothing stays fixed... Cool things become warm, the warm grows cool; the moist dries, the parched becomes moist... It is in changing that things find repose.

Nothing endures but change. There is nothing permanent except change. All is flux, nothing stays still.

There is harmony in the tension of opposites, as in the case of the bow and lyre.

The nature of things is in the habit of concealing itself.

You may travel far and wide but never will you find the boundaries of the soul.

War is the father of all things.

Though wisdom is common, yet the many live as if they had a wisdom of their own.