“With our mortal minds we should seek from the gods that which becomes us.”

O my soul, do not aspire to immortal life, but exhaust the limits of the possible.

Every noble deed dieth, if suppressed in silence.

To be envied is a nobler fate than to be pitied.

Wrapt up in error is the human mind, And human bliss is ever insecure; Know we what fortune yet remains behind? Know we how long the present shall endure?

Every gift which is given, even though is be small, is in reality great, if it is given with affection.

I will not steep my speech in lies; the test of any man lies in action.

If one but tell a thing well, it moves on with undying voice, and over the fruitful earth and across the sea goes the bright gleam of noble deeds ever unquenchable.

We are things of a day. What are we? What are we not? The shadow of a dream is man, no more.

There are many roads to happiness, if the gods assent.

The race of gods and men is one, and from one mother we both draw our breath. Yet all the difference in our power holds us apart, so that man is nothing, but the brazen floor of heaven is eternally unshakable.

Time is the best preserver of righteous men.

Even success softens not the heart of the envious.

The forehead of every work must shine from afar.

To each thing belongs it’s measure. Occasion is best to know.

Water is best, but gold shines like fire blazing in the night, supreme of lordly wealth.

Of the good things given between man and man, I say that a neighbor, true and loving in heart, to neighbor is a joy beyond all things else.

Probably I’m more of a fan of the literary references than the pop-culture references. But I do go to the pop-culture well quite frequently because people, I think, are sort of inherently ready to laugh at that. It’s a free laugh almost. Usually, everybody gets it.

If there are one hundred thousand damned souls for one saved soul, the devil has always the advantage without having given up his son to death.

Such words as ‘God’ and ‘Death’ and ‘Suffering’ and ‘Eternity’ are best forgotten. We have to become as simple and as wordless as the growing corn or the falling rain. We must just be.

A great nose may be an index Of a great soul.

Skeptics would rather, even at their own expense, appear to be right than take the risk of trusting.

After each creative act one has to be sustained by one’s strength of character, by a moral sense, by I don’t know what, lest one tumble.

Or holds them of no account in the estimate of his origin and place in the created world.

Though God alone never tastes woe, Yet that man is happy, and poets sing of him, Who conquers with hand or swift foot And wins the greatest of prizes By steadfastness and strength.