Even the bold will fly when they see Death drawing in close enough to end their life.

The shimmering night does not stay for mortals, not misfortunes, nor wealth, but in a moment it is gone, and to the turn of another comes joy and loss.

Not even Ares battles against necessity.

I was not born to share the hate, but love.

Wonders are many, and none is more wonderful than man; the power that crosses the white sea, driven by the stormy wind, making a path under surges that threaten to engulf him.

Love is like ice in the hands of children.

If to some my tale seems foolishness I am content that such could count me fool.