In every tyrant's heart there springs in the end this poison, that he cannot trust a friend.

For somehow this disease inheres in tyranny, never to trust one's friends.

The words of truth are simple.

Memory is the mother of all wisdom.

Of prosperity mortals can never have enough.

He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God.

Wisdom comes alone through suffering.

It is good even for old men to learn wisdom.

What is there more kindly than the feeling between host and guest?