Not to be born is, past all prizing, best.
Remember, nothing succeeds without toil.
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.
For the dead there are no more toils.
No one longs to live more than someone growing old.
Even from the first it is meek to seek the impossible.