Strife and Confusion joined the fight, along with cruel Death, who seized one wounded man while still alive and then another man without a wound, while pulling the feet of one more corpse out from the fight. The clothes Death wore around her shoulders were dyed red with human blood.

A boy without mischief is like a bowling ball without a liquid center.

Never to be cast away are the gifts of the gods, magnificent, which they give of their own will, no man could have them for wanting them.

If any man obeys the gods, they listen to him also.

Once you go Vatican, you never go back again.

One omen is best, to fight in defense of one's country.

I wish that strife would vanish away from among gods and mortals, and gall, which makes a man grow angry for all his great mind, that gall of anger that swarms like smoke inside of a man's heart and becomes a thing sweeter to him by far than the dripping of honey.