It is a wretched thing to live on the fame of others.
For the gods, instead of what is most pleasing, will give what is most proper. Man is dearer to them than he is to himself.
The traveller with empty pockets will sing in the thief 's face.
An undying hatred, and a wound never to be healed.
The gods alone know, what kind of wife a man will have.
Majestic mighty Wealth is the holiest of our gods.