A man's homeland is wherever he prospers.

Ye children of man! whose life is a span Protracted with sorrow from day to day, Naked and featherless, feeble and querulous, Sickly, calamitous creatures of clay.

Under every stone lurks a politician.

Evil events from evil causes spring.

Quickly, bring me a beaker of wine, so that I may wet my mind and say something clever.

A man's homeland is wherever he prospers.