Truth Is Always The First Casualty Of

The One Knowing What Is Profitable, And Not The Man Knowing Many Things, Is Wise.

Who, Except The Gods, Can Live Time Through Forever Without Any Pain?

Yet Though A Man Gets Many Wounds In Breast, He Dieth Not, Unless The Appointed Time, The Limit Of His Life's Span, Coincide; Nor Does The Man Who By The Hearth At Home Sits Still, Escape The Doom That Fate Decrees.

Bronze Is The Mirror Of Form, Wine Of The Heart.

Justice Shines In Very Smoky Homes, And Honors The Righteous; But The Gold-spangled Mansions Where The Hands Are Unclean She Leaves With Eyes Averted.