Yet I pity the poor wretch, though he’s my enemy. He’s yoked to an evil delusion, but the same fate could be mine. I see clearly: we who live are all phantoms, fleeing shadows.
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.
True, as unwisdom is the worst of ills.
Every wind is fare when we are flying from misfortune.
It is hope that maintains most of mankind.
The good befriend themselves.
It made our hair stand up in panic fear.
The end excuses any evil.
It becomes one, while exempt from woes, to look to the dangers.
Though a man be wise it is no shame for him to live and learn.
Man’s worst ill is stubbornness of heart.
Zeus detests above all the boasts of a proud tongue.
The dice of Zeus always fall luckily.
Sleep, thou patron of mankind, Great physician of the mind Who does nor pain nor sorrow know, Sweetest balm of every woe.
Not to be born surpasses thought and speech. The second best is to have seen the light and then go back quickly whence we came.
Ill-gotten gains work evil.
For God hates utterly the bray of bragging tongues.
A fearful man is always hearing things.
A man who takes pleasure in speaking continuously fools himself in thinking he is not unpleasant to those around him.
The tyrant is a child of pride.