Men would be angels, angels would be gods.
As with narrow-necked bottles; the less they have in them, the more noise they make in pouring out.
The finest minds, like the finest metals, dissolve the easiest.
The vanity of human life is like a river, constantly passing away, and yet constantly coming on.
So vast is art, so narrow human wit.
A brave man thinks no one his superior who does him an injury, for he has it then in his power to make himself superior to the other by forgiving it.