Satiety Comes Of Riches And Contumaciousness Of

Watch Well Each Separate Citizen, Lest Having In His Heart Of Hearts A Secret Spear, One Still May Come Saluting You With Cheerful Face, And Utter With A Double Tongue The Feigned Good Wishes Of His Wary Mind.

If Through Your Vices You Afflicted Are, Lay Not The Blame Of Your Distress On God; You Made Your Rulers Mighty, Gave Them Guards, So Now You Groan 'neath Slavery's Heavy Rod.

No More Good Must Be Attempted Than The Nation Can Bear

Chide A Friend In Private And Praise Him In Public.

Let No Man Be Called Happy Before His Death. Till Then, He Is Not Happy, Only Lucky.