If anyone comes to the gates of poetry and expects to become an adequate poet by acquiring expert knowledge of the subject without the Muses' madness, he will fail, and his self-controlled verses will be eclipsed by the poetry of men who have been driven out of their minds.

No one is more hated than he who speaks the truth.

Then not only custom, but also nature affirms that to do is more disgraceful than to suffer injustice, and that justice is equality.

False words are not only evil in themselves, but they infect the soul with evil.

We are bound to our bodies like an oyster to its shell.

I to die, and you to live. Which is better God only knows.

To be curious about that which is not one's concern while still in ignorance of oneself is ridiculous.