He is gifted with genius who knoweth much by natural inspiration.

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

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.

To our own sorrows serious heed we give, But for another?s we soon cease to grieve.

Natural ability is by far the best, but many men have succeeded in winning high renown by skill that is the fruit of teaching.

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.

One race there is of men, one of gods, but from one mother we both draw our breath.