All Men Seek Esteem; The

He Sees Himself In His Lover As If In A Mirror, Not Knowing Whom He Sees, And When They Are Together, He Too Is Released From Pain, And When Apart, He Longs As He Himself Is Longed For; For Reflected In His Heart Is Love's Image, Which Is Love's Answer. But He Calls It, And Believes It, Not Love But Friendship.

There Is Madness In Youth, But Sometimes A God Inspires It.

What Keeps The Democracy Alive At All But The Hatred Of Excellence; The Desire Of The Base To See No Head Higher Than Their Own?

In All Men Is Evil Sleeping; The Good Man Is He Who Will Not Awaken It, In Himself Or In Other Men.

Change Is The Sum Of The Universe, And What Is Of Nature Ought Not To Be Feared. But One Gives It Hostages, And Lays One's Grief Upon The Gods. Sokrates Is Free, And Would Have Taught Me Freedom. But I Have Yoked The Immortal Horse That Draws The Chariot With A Horse Of Earth; And When The One Falls, Both Are Entangled In The Traces.