The leader, mingling with the vulgar host, Is in the common mass of matter lost.
The force of union conquers all.
There is a strength in the even of very sorry men
No man or woman born, coward or brave, can shun his destiny.
The stars never lie, but the astrologers lie about the stars.
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.