The gods love those of ordered soul.
The sleep of a sick man has keen eyes. It is a sleep unsleeping.
The joy that comes past hope and beyond expectation is like no other pleasure in extent.
Sleep, ignorant of pain, sleep, ignorant of grief, may you come to us blowing softly, kindly, kindly come king.
As sight is in the eye, so is the mind in the soul!
Strike at a great man, and you will not miss.