One race there is of men, one of gods, but from one mother we both draw our breath.
Success for the striven washes away the effort of striving.
Wrapt up in error is the human mind, And human bliss is ever insecure; Know we what fortune yet remains behind? Know we how long the present shall endure?
Skills vary with the man. We must tread a straight path and strive by that which is born in us.
I will not steep my speech in lies; the test of any man lies in action.
Time is the turning over of days, works change for better or worse.