Look now how mortals are blaming the gods, for they say that evils come from us, but in fact they themselves have woes beyond their share because of their own follies.

Is he not sacred, even to the gods, the wandering man who comes in weariness?

A councilor ought not to sleep the whole night through, a man to whom the populace is entrusted, and who has many responsibilities.

All men owe honor to the poets - honor and awe; for they are dearest to the Muse who puts upon their lips the ways of life.

She threw into the wine which they were drinking a drug which takes away grief and passion and brings forgetfulness of all ills

Who love too much, hate in the like extreme.

out of sight,out of mind