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.

And one who is just of his own free will shall not lack for happiness; and he will never come to utter ruin.

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

It is a light thing for whoever keeps his foot outside trouble to advise and counsel him that suffers.

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.

For somehow this is tyranny's disease, to trust no friends.