How gracious are the gods in bestowing high positions; and how reluctant are they to insure them when given.
Death is a mercy, and I have enough mercy to go around.
Poverty persuades a man to do and suffer everything that he may escape from it.
The lips are closed, for the dancer has plenty of other voices at his service.
The world is fleeting; all things pass away; Or is it we that pass and they that stay?
The only business of the historian is to relate things exactly as they are: this he can never do as long as he is afraid