“We don’t rise to the level of our expectations, we fall to the level of our training.”

And by a prudent flight and cunning save A life which valour could not, from the grave. A better buckler I can soon regain, But who can get another life again?

Take the joy and bear the sorrow, looking past your hopes and fears: learn to recognize the measured dance that orders all our years.

These golden matters Of Gyges and his treasuries Are no concern of mine. Jealousy has no power over me, Nor do I envy a god his work, And I do not burn to rule. Such things have no Fascination for my eyes.

Zeus, the father of the Olympic Gods, turned mid-day into night, hiding the light of the dazzling Sun; and sore fear came upon men.

The Fox knows many things-the hedgehog one big one.

Be brave, my heart. Plant your feet and square your shoulders to the enemy. Meet him among the man-killing spears. Hold your ground. In victory, do not brag; in defeat, do not weep.

Old women should not seek to be perfumed.

Nothing can be sworn impossible since Zeus made night during mid-day, hiding the light of the shining Sun.

Let who will boast their courage in the field, I find but little safety from my shield, Nature’s, not honour’s law we must obey: This made me cast my useless shield away.

I have a high art, I hurt with cruelty those who would damage me.

Fall forward, in your failing, and rise up with a soul on fire!

Early rising is no pleasure; early drinking’s just the measure.

It’s a treat to see the sun rise over the desert. What am I saying? It’s a treat to fire off a rocket car over the desert!

The light in your eyes shines because of the longing in your soul. And the longing in your souls rises because you are looking for the lost half minute.

Rise above the deceptions and temptations of the mind. This is your duty. You are born for this only; all other duties are self-created and self-imposed owing to ignorance.

Where the sun sets, love rises!

When emotions arise, I don’t attempt to suppress or repress them, so that I can discern their basis or cause.

In common with Michelangelo and Rembrandt I am more interested in the line, its rise and fall, than in color.