Nature has granted to all to be happy, if we did but know how to use her benefits.
The covetous man is always poor.
Death renders all equal.
The best manners are stained by haughtiness.
Luxury, that alluring pest with fair forehead, which, yielding always to the will of the body, throws a deadening influence over the senses, and weakens the limbs more than the drugs of Circe's cup.
Nature has placed his own happiness in each man's hands, if he only knew how to use it.