Is it reasonable that even the arts should take advantage of and profit by our natural stupidity and feebleness of mind?
The ceaseless labour of your life is to build the house of death.
Nor is it enough to toughen up his soul; you must also toughen up his muscles.
It is easier to sacrifice great than little things.
The archer who overshoots his mark does no better than he who falls short of it.
Men ... are not agreed about any one thing, not even that heaven is over our heads.