Like the generations of leaves, the lives of mortal men. Now the wind scatters the old leaves across the earth, now the living timber bursts with the new buds and spring comes round again. And so with men: as one generation comes to life, another dies away.

Behold, on wrong Swift vengeance waits; and art subdues the strong.

A sound mind in a manly body.

A sympathetic friend can be quite as dear as a brother.

The glorious gifts of the gods are not to be cast aside.

You, why are you so afraid of war and slaughter? Even if all the rest of us drop and die around you, grappling for the ships, you’d run no risk of death: you lack the heart to last it out in combat—coward!

All my life I've been an obese man trapped inside a fat man's body.