All things are in the hand of heaven, and Folly, eldest of Jove's daughters, shuts men's eyes to their destruction. She walks delicately, not on the solid earth, but hovers over the heads of men to make them stumble or to ensnare them.

Oall the creatures that creep and breathe on earth, there is none more wretched than man.

Heaven hears and pities hapless men like me, For sacred ev'n to gods is misery.

You will certainly not be able to take the lead in all things yourself, for to one man a god has given deeds of war, and to another the dance, to another lyre and song, and in another wide-sounding Zeus puts a good mind.

Men are so quick to blame the gods: they say that we devise their misery. But they themselves- in their depravity- design grief greater than the griefs that fate assigns.

There is no greater glory that can befall a man that what he achieves with the speed of his feet or the strength of his hands.

By mutual confidence and mutual aid - great deeds are done, and great discoveries made