Skills vary with the man. We must tread a straight path and strive by that which is born in us.

Time is the turning over of days, works change for better or worse.

Creatures of a day, what is any one? What is he not? Man is but a dream of a shadow. Yet when there comes as a gift of heaven a gleam of sunshine, there rest upon men a radiant light and, aye, a gentle life.

Success for the striven washes away the effort of striving.

Men are the dreams of a shadow.

Skills vary with the man. We must tread a straight path and strive by that which is born in us.

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.