Ere land and sea and the all-covering sky Were made, in the whole world the countenance Of nature was the same, all one, well named Chaos, a raw and undivided mass, Naught but a lifeless bulk, with warring seeds Of ill-joined elements compressed together.
Beauty- it was a favor bestowed by the gods.
Pluck with quick hand the fruit that passes.
I see and praise what is better, but follow what is worse.
That pleasure which can be safely indulged in is the least inviting.
Envy feeds on the living, after death it rests, then the honor of a man protects him.