Love conquers all; therefore, let us submit to love.
Through pain I've learned to comfort suffering men
Perhaps the day may come when we shall remember these sufferings with joy.
Trust not the horse, O Trojans. Be it what it may, I fear the Grecians even when they offer gifts.
Each draws to his best-loved.
O accursed hunger of gold, to what dost thou not compel human hearts!
Want of pluck shows want of blood
Cease to think that the decrees of the gods can be changed by prayers.
I will be gone from here and sing my songs/ In the forest wilderness where the wild beasts are,/ And carve in letters on the little trees/ The story of my love, and as the trees/ Will grow letters too will grow, to cry/ In a louder voice the story of my love.
Love conquers all things.
The accursed hunger for gold.
I feel again a spark of that ancient flame.
Who asks whether the enemy was defeated by strategy or valor?