Poets tell many lies.
Rule, after you have first learned to submit to rule.
Justice, even if slow, is sure.
No man is happy; he is at best fortunate.
Satiety comes of riches and contumaciousness of satiety.
If through your vices you afflicted are, Lay not the blame of your distress on God; You made your rulers mighty, gave them guards, So now you groan 'neath slavery's heavy rod.