Pain Lays Not Its Touch Upon A

In Few Men Is It Part Of Nature To Respect A Friend's Prosperity Without Begrudging Him.

In The Sinews Of The Dead There Is No Blood.

Don't You Know This, That Words Are Doctors To A Diseased Temperment?

Old Men, What Are They? Fast Fading The Leaf, Three-footed They Walk, Yet Frail As A Child, As A Dream Set Afloat In The Daylight.

There Is No Disgrace In An Enemy Suffering Ill At An Enemy's Hand, When You Hate Mutually.