Euripedes

Where two discourse, if the one's anger rise, The man who lets the contest fall is wise.

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.

The best of seers is he who guesses well.

The greatest pleasure of life is love.

There is no harbor of peace from the changing waves of joy and despair.

To friends, or lead a sick man back to health

Wealth stays with us a little moment if at all: only our characters are steadfast, not our gold.

Who dares not speak his free thoughts is a slave.

Young people, the most beautiful jewels in wealth is also the most beautiful in the case of want and woe!

The best prophet is common sense, our native wit.

The lucky person passes for a genius.

There is no worse evil than a bad woman; and nothing has ever been produced better than a good one.

To have found you is a dear happiness; and to be Apollo's son is beyond all my hopes; but there is something I want to say to you alone. Come; this is a private matter between us two - anything you tell me shall be as secret as the grave.

We'll see how the sky catches fire. We'll see how she feeds the flames with her implacable hate.

Who knoweth if to die be but to live, and that called life by mortals be but death?

Your very silence shows you agree.

The bold are helpless without cleverness.

The man is happiest who lives from day to day and asks no more, garnering the simple goodness of life.

There is nothing like the sight of an old enemy down on his luck.

To persevere, trusting in what hopes he has, is courage in a man. The coward despairs.

What greater grief than the loss of one's native land.

Who knows but life be that which men call death, and death what men call life?

Youth holds no society with grief.

The brash unbridled tongue, the lawless folly of fools, will end in pain. But the life of wise content is blest with quietness, escapes the storm and keeps its house secure.

The man who glories in his luck may be overthrown by destiny.