A Man Who Has Been In Danger,

Alas, How Right The Ancient Saying Is: We, Who Are Old, Are Nothing Else But Noise And Shape. Like Mimicries Of Dreams We Go, And Have No Wits, Although We Think Us Wise.

Fortune Always Will Confer An Aura Of Worth, Unworthily; And In This World The Lucky Person Passes For A Genius.

Young Man, Two Are The Forces Most Precious To Mankind. The First Is Demeter, The Goddess. She Is The Earth -- Or Any Name You Wish To Call Her -- And She Sustains Humanity With Solid Food. Next Came Dionysus, The Son Of The Virgin, Bringing The Counterpart To Bread: Wine And The Blessings Of Life's Flowing Juices. His Blood, The Blood Of The Grape, Lightens The Burden Of Our Mortal Misery. Though Himself A God, It Is His Blood We Pour Out To Offer Thanks To The Gods. And Through Him, We Are Blessed.

Neither Earth Nor Ocean Produces A Creature As Savage And Monstrous As Woman.

Had I Succeeded Well, I Had Been Reckoned Amongst The Wise; Our Minds Are So Disposed To Judge From The Event.