For now indeed is the race of iron; and men never cease from labour and sorrow by day and from perishing by night.

A day is sometimes our mother, sometimes our stepmother.

Do not seek dishonest gains: dishonest gains are losses.

For now indeed is the race of iron; and men never cease from labour and sorrow by day and from perishing by night.

Whoever, fleeing marriage and the sorrows that women cause, does not wish to wed comes to a deadly old age.

We know how to speak many falsehoods that resemble real things, but we know, when we will, how to speak true things.

No day is wholly unproductive of good.