Homer

It is not good to have a rule of many.

Light is the task where many share the toil.

Who dares think one thing, and another tell, My heart detests him as the gates of hell.

'T is true, 't is certain; man though dead retains Part of himself: the immortal mind remains.

Injustice, swift, erect, and unconfin'd, Sweeps the wide earth, and tramples o'er mankind.

To labour is the lot of man below; And when Jove gave us life, he gave us woe.

As leaves on the trees, such is the life of man.

How God ever brings like to like.

Like leaves on trees the race of man is found,- Now green in youth, now withering on the ground; Another race the following spring supplies: They fall successive, and successive rise.

And taste The melancholy joy of evils past: For he who much has suffer'd, much will know.