“Do not grieve so much for a husband lost that it wastes away your life.”

The same man cannot well be skilled in everything; each has his special excellence.

No one who lives in error is free.

Nothing is hopeless; we must hope for everything.

Old loves are dropped when new ones come.

Who then will dare to say I’m weak or timid? No, they’ll say I’m loyal as a friend, ruthless as a foe, so much like a hero destined for glory.

She came into the world fierce and stubborn and then she learned to hate.

Mortal fate is hard. You’d best get used to it.

Silence is true wisdom’s best reply.

Wine is a terrible foe, hard to wrestle with.

Question everything. Learn something. Answer nothing.

Friendship doubles your joys, and divides your sorrows.

Every man is like the company he wont to keep.

Hate is a bottomless cup; I will pour and pour.

Talk sense to a fool and he calls you foolish.

Both to the rich and poor, wine is the happy antidote for sorrow.

Everyone asks if a man is rich, no one if he is good.

I felt a deep grief that crouched and stayed still as if it was afraid to move.

Stunned and still not suffering. Swollen with care and anxiety and still not suffering. Useless, old, and full of grief, but still not suffering.

His grief he will not forget; but it will not darken his heart, it will teach him wisdom.

Prosperity is no just scale; adversity is the only balance to weigh friends.

The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.

Ah, grief makes us precise!

Excess of grief for the dead is madness; for it is an injury to the living, and the dead know it not.

Friendship improves happiness, and abates misery, by doubling our joys, and dividing our grief.