War is sweet to those who never tried it.

The race of gods and men is one, and from one mother we both draw our breath. Yet all the difference in our power holds us apart, so that man is nothing, but the brazen floor of heaven is eternally unshakable.

O my soul, do not aspire to immortal life, but exhaust the limits of the possible.

The present will not long endure.

Mother of the Sun, Theia of many names, for your sake men honor gold as more powerful than anything else; and through the value you bestow on them, o queen, ships contending on the sea and yoked teams of horses in swift-whirling contests become marvels.

Forge thy tongue on an anvil of truth and what flies up, though it be but a spark, will have light.

I will not steep my speech in lies; the test of any man lies in action.