O my soul, do not aspire to immortal life, but exhaust the limits of the possible.
Sweet is war to those who know it not.
Water is best, but gold shines like fire blazing in the night, supreme of lordly wealth.
For lawless joys a bitter ending waits.
Finding that the middle condition of life is by far the happiest, I look with little favor upon that of princes.
Unsung, the noblest deed will die.