Don't trust the horse, Trojans. Whatever it is, I fear the Greeks even bearing gifts. -Equo ne credite, Teucri. Quidquid id est, timeo Danaos et dona ferentes
The hour is ripe, and yonder lies the way.
Fear betrays unworthy souls.
The flocks fear the wolf, the crops the storm, and the trees the wind.
Even virtue is fairer when it appears in a beautiful person.
Is it then so sad a thing to die?