It's the wise man who stays home when he's drunk.
Money is the wise man's religion.
Oh, what a vileness human beauty is; corroding, corrupting everything it touches.
Ten thousand men possess ten thousand hopes.
The way of God is complex, he is hard for us to predict. He moves the pieces and they come somehow into a kind of order.
When one with honeyed words but evil mind Persuades the mob, great woes befall the state.