The man whom heaven helps has friends enough.
The bold are helpless without cleverness.
Love must not touch the marrow of the soul. Our affections must be breakable chains that we can cast them off or tighten them.
Those who have not, and live in want, are a menace, Ridden with envy and fooled by demagogues.
Only a madman would give good for evil
Delusive hope still points to distant good.