Sleep, thou patron of mankind, Great physician of the mind Who does nor pain nor sorrow know, Sweetest balm of every woe.

A human being is only breath and shadow.

To the man who is afraid everything rustles.

The sleep of a sick man has keen eyes. It is a sleep unsleeping.

If it were possible to heal sorrow by weeping and to raise the dead with tears, gold were less prized than grief.

Evil counsel travels fast.

Best to live lightly, unthinkingly.