Men should pledge themselves to nothing; for reflection makes a liar of their resolution.
If to some my tale seems foolishness I am content that such could count me fool.
The eyes of men love to pluck the blossoms from the faded flowers they turn away.
One's own escape from troubles makes one glad; but bringing friends to trouble is hard grief.
More men come to doom through dirty profits than are kept by them.
The tyrant is a child of Pride Who drinks from his sickening cup Recklessness and vanity, Until from his high crest headlong He plummets to the dust of hope.