There is a middle ground in things.
Fortune, delighting in her cruel task, and playing her wanton game untiringly, is ever shifting her uncertain favours.
There are faults we would fain pardon.
Who's started has half finished.
Sport begets tumultuous strife and wrath, and wrath begets fierce quarrels and war to the death.
To the inexperienced it is a pleasant thing to court the favour of the great; an experienced man fears it.