Sweet Is A Grief Well Ended.

The So-called Mother Of The Child Isn't The Child's Begetter, But Only A Sort Of Nursing Soil For The New-sown Seed. The Man, The One On Top, Is The True Parent, While She, A Stranger, Foster's A Stranger's Sprout.

There Is A Limit To The Best Of Health, Disease Is Always A Near Neighbor.

Success! To Thee, As To A God, Men Bend The Knee.

In Every Tyrant's Heart There Springs In The End This Poison, That He Cannot Trust A Friend.

Zeus, First Cause, Prime Mover; For What Thing Without Zeus Is Done Among Mortals?