With fame, in just proportion, envy grows.

What is revenge but courage to call in our honor's debts, and wisdom to convert others' self-love into our own protection?

He that's ungrateful has no guilt but one; All other crimes may pass for virtues in him.

We bleed, we tremble; we forget, we smile - The mind turns fool, before the cheek is dry

We see time's furrows on another's brow, And death intrench'd, preparing his assault; How few themselves in that just mirror see!

Friendship's the wine of life: but friendship new... is neither strong nor pure.

A tardy vengeance shares the tyrant's guilt.