Truly Even He Errs That Is Wiser

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

Destiny Waits Alike For The Free Man As Well As For Him Enslaved By Another's Might.

By Suffering Comes Wisdom.

The Gods At Will Can Shape A Gladder Strain, And From The Lamentations At The Graveside, A Song Of Triumph May Arise.

For Not Many Men, The Proverb Saith, Can Love A Friend Whom Fortune Prospereth Unenvying.