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All these souls, after they have passed away a thousand years, are summoned by the divine ones in great array, to the lethean river. . .In this way they become forgetful of the former earthlife, and re-visit the vaulted realms of the world, willing to return again into living bodies.
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O tyrant love, to what do you not drive the hearts of men.
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Fortune favors the bold.
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It is easy to go down into Hell night and day, the gates of dark Death stand wide but to climb back again, to retrace one's steps to the upper air - there's the rub, the task.
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Trust not the horse, O Trojans. Be it what it may, I fear the Grecians even when they offer gifts.
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