Time is a kindly God.
Love is like ice in the hands of children.
Whoever lives among many evils just as I, how can dying not be a source of gain?
Alas, how quickly the gratitude owed to the dead flows off, how quick to be proved a deceiver.
It is hope that maintains most of mankind.
Dreadful is the mysterious power of fate; there is no deliverance from it by wealth or by war, by walled city or dark, seabeaten ships.