From a single crime know the nation.
Each person, makes their own terrible passion their God.
Go on and increase in valor for this is the path to immortality.
I have lived, and I have run the course which fortune allotted me; and now my shade shall descend illustrious to the grave.
Curst greed of gold, what crimes thy tyrant power has caused.
Such is the love of praise, so great the anxiety for victory.
Death twitches my ear. Live, he says, I am coming.
Rumor grows as it goes.
Even virtue is fairer when it appears in a beautiful person.
Who asks whether the enemy were defeated by strategy or valor?
As a twig is bent the tree inclines.
Harsh necessity, and the newness of my kingdom, force me to do such things and to guard my frontiers everywhere.