Why should I go into details, we have nothing that is not perishable except what our hearts and our intellects endows us with.

An evil life is a kind of death.

The spirited horse, which will try to win the race of its own accord, will run even faster if encouraged.

Like fragile ice anger passes away in time.

Everything comes gradually and at its appointed hour.

He whom all hate all wish to see destroyed.

It is the poor man who'll ever count his flock.