To the person who is afraid, everything rustles.
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.
We must wait until the evening to see how splendid the day had been.
To err from the right path is common to mankind.
Even from the first it is meek to seek the impossible.
I was born to join in love, not hate - that is my nature.