Bonds and the pangs of hunger are excellent prophet doctors for the wits.
This is a sickness rooted and inherent in the nature of a tyranny: that he that holds it does not trust his friends.
Delay not to seize the hour!
The tongue of slander is too prompt with wanton malice to wound the stranger.
Misfortune wandering the same track lights now upon one and now upon another.
Destiny waits alike for the free man as well as for him enslaved by another's might.