Best of children, sisters arm-in-arm, we must bear what the gods give us to bear-- don't fire up your hearts with so much grief. No reason to blame the pass you've come to now.

A wise doctor does not mutter incantations over a sore that needs the knife.

Reason is God's crowning gift to man.

Alas, how quickly the gratitude owed to the dead flows off, how quick to be proved a deceiver.

What men have seen they know. . . .

To be doing good deeds is man's most glorious task.

There is no greater evil than anarchy.