How comes it that you curse, Frere Jean? It's only, said the monk, in order to embellish my language. They are the colors of Ciceronian rhetoric.

Remove idleness from the world and soon the arts of Cupid would perish.

The farce is finished. I go to seek a vast perhaps.

Tell the truth and shame the devil.

Giving words [is] an act of lovers.

I never sleep comfortably except when I am at sermon or when I pray to God.

Machination is worth more than force.