Whatever day Makes man a slave, takes half his worth away.

The charity that is a trifle to us can be precious to others.

For rarely are sons similar to their fathers: most are worse, and a few are better than their fathers.

Life and death are balanced as it were on the edge of a razor

Among all men on the earth bards have a share of honor and reverence, because the muse has taught them songs and loves the race of bards.

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!

You know, the one with all the well meaning rules that don't work out in real life, uh, Christianity.