For who could be found to be more unhappy than we are who, in one day deprived of our
 city, our lands, and our possessions, and being destitute of all necessities alike, have
 become wanderers and beggars, not knowing whither to turn and, whatever our habitation,
 finding no happiness there? For if we fall in with the unfortunate, we grieve that we must
 be compelled, in addition to our own ills, to share in the ills of others; and if we encounter those who fare well, our lot is even harder to bear, not because we
 envy them their prosperity, but because amid the blessings of our neighbors we see more
 clearly our own miseries—miseries so great that we spend no day without tears, but spend
 all our time mourning the loss of our fatherland and bewailing the change in our fortunes.
 What, think you, is our state of mind when we see our own parents unworthily cared for in
 their old age, and our children, instead of being educated as we had hoped when we begat
 them, often because of petty debts reduced to slavery, Cf.
 Lys. 12.98 . others working for hire, and the rest
 procuring their daily livelihood as best each one can, in a manner that accords with
 neither the deeds of their ancestors, nor their own youth, nor our own self-respect? But our greatest anguish of all is when one sees separated from each other, not only
 citizens from citizens, but also wives from husbands, daughters from mothers, and every
 tie of kinship severed; and this has befallen many of our fellow-citizens because of
 poverty. For the destruction of our communal life has compelled each of us to cherish
 hopes for himself alone. I presume that you yourselves are not ignorant of the other causes of shame that poverty
 and exile bring in their train, The unhappy lot of the
 exile is a commonplace in Greek poetry and prose; cf. Tyrtaeus, frag. 10. and
 although we in our hearts bear these with greater difficulty than all the rest, yet we
 forbear to speak of them since we are ashamed to enumerate one by one our own misfortunes.