But Truly, If I Were

I Foresee A Great Funeral Contest Over Me.

I Send You A Kaffis Of Mustard Seed, That You May Taste And Acknowledge The Bitterness Of My Victory.

A Tomb Now Suffices Him For Whom The Whole World Was Not Sufficient.

As For A Limit To One’s Labors, I, For One, Do Not Recognize Any For A High-minded Man, Except That The Labors Themselves Should Lead To Noble Accomplishments.

How Great Are The Dangers I Face To Win A Good Name In Athens.