The best by far is to marry in one's own rank.
For not many men, the proverb saith, can love a friend whom fortune prospereth unenvying.
This is a sickness rooted and inherent in the nature of a tyranny: that he that holds it does not trust his friends.
Ah, lives of men! When prosperous they glitter - Like a fair picture; when misfortune comes - A wet sponge at one blow has blurred the painting.
The tongue of slander is too prompt with wanton malice to wound the stranger.
Bonds and the pangs of hunger are excellent prophet doctors for the wits.