Love Distills Desire Upon The

Human Misery Must Somewhere Have A Stop; There Is No Wind That Always Blows A Storm; Great Good Fortune Comes To Failure In The End. All Is Change; All Yields Its Place And Goes; To Persevere, Trusting In What Hopes He Has, Is Courage In A Man. The Coward Despairs.

Greatness Brings No Profit To People. God Indeed, When In Anger, Brings Greater Ruin To Great Mens Houses.

I Envy That Man Who Passes Through Life Safely, To The World And Fame Unknown.

When Good Men Die Their Goodness Does Not Perish, But Lives Though They Are Gone. As For The Bad, All That Was Theirs Dies And Is Buried With Them.

Young Man, Two Are The Forces Most Precious To Mankind. The First Is Demeter, The Goddess. She Is The Earth -- Or Any Name You Wish To Call Her -- And She Sustains Humanity With Solid Food. Next Came Dionysus, The Son Of The Virgin, Bringing The Counterpart To Bread: Wine And The Blessings Of Life's Flowing Juices. His Blood, The Blood Of The Grape, Lightens The Burden Of Our Mortal Misery. Though Himself A God, It Is His Blood We Pour Out To Offer Thanks To The Gods. And Through Him, We Are Blessed.