Mother of Aeneas, pleasure of men and gods. -Aeneadum genetrix, hominum divomque voluptas

Those things that are in the light we behold from darkness.

Some species increase, others diminish, and in a short space the generations of living creatures are changed and, like runners, pass on the torch of life.

From the very fountain of enchantment there arises a taste of bitterness to spread anguish amongst the flowers.

Sweet it is, when on the high seas the winds are lashing the waters, to gaze from the land on another's struggles.

Rest, brother, rest. Have you done ill or well Rest, rest, There is no God, no gods who dwell Crowned with avenging righteousness on high Nor frowning ministers of their hate in hell.

True piety lies rather in the power to contemplate the universe with a quiet mind.