One might have supposed that the true act of love was to lie together and talk.
Tell a man what he may not sing and he is still half free; even all free, if he never wanted to sing it. But tell him what he must sing, take up his time with it so that his true voice cannot sound even in secret -- there, I have seen is slavery.
Often beauty grows dull or common when speech breaks the mask.
It is bitter to lose a friend to evil before one loses him to death.
There is nothing like despair to make one throw oneself upon the gods.
One must live as if it would be forever, and as if one might die each moment. Always both at once.