Most Grievous Of All Deaths It Is

She Spoke And Loosened From Her Bosom The Embroidered Girdle Of Many Colors Into Which All Her Allurements Were Fashioned. In It Was Love And Int Desire Which Steals The Mind Even Of The Wise.

A Sound Mind In A Manly Body.

It [revenge] Is Sweeter Far Than Flowing Honey.

I Should Rather Labor As Another's Serf, In The Home Of A Man Without Fortune, One Whose Livelihood Was Meager, Than Rule Over All The Departed Dead.

What Greater Glory Attends A Man Than What He Wins With His Racing Feet And His Striving Hands?