Alas for the affairs of men! When they are fortunate you might compare them to a shadow; and if they are unfortunate, a wet sponge with one dash wipes the picture away.
I, schooled in misery, know many purifying rites, and I know where speech is proper and where silence.
If a man suffers ill, let it be without shame; for this is the only profit when we are dead. You will never say a good word about deeds that are evil and disgraceful.
Neither a life of anarchy nor one beneath a despot should you praise; to all that lies in the middle, a god has given excellence.
It is an easy thing for one whose foot is on the outside of calamity to give advice and to rebuke the sufferer.
And one who is just of his own free will shall not lack for happiness, and he will never come to utter ruin.
Ah, the lives of men! When prosperous they glitter – Like a fair picture; when misfortune comes – A wet sponge at one blow has blurred the painting.
For the poison of hatred seated near the heart doubles the burden for the one who suffers the disease; he is burdened with his own sorrow and groans on seeing another’s happiness.