There is something in the pang of change more than the heart can bear, unhappiness remembering happiness.

I think it makes small difference to the dead, if they are buried in the tokens of luxury. All that is an empty glorification left for those who live.

Alas, how right the ancient saying is: We, who are old, are nothing else but noise And shape. Like mimicries of dreams we go, And have no wits, although we think us wise.

It is in adversity that the good show their friendship most clearly; prosperity always finds friends.

Those who are held Wise among men and who search the reasons of things, are those who bring the most sorrow on themselves.

Who cannot open an honest mind No friend will he be of mine.

Judge a tree from its fruit, not from its leaves.