Death is a mighty mediator. There all the flames of rage are extinguished, hatred is appeased, and angelic pity, like a weeping sister, bends with gentle and close embrace over the funeral urn.

Deaf rage that hears no leader.

The storm is master. Man, as a ball, is tossed twixt winds and billows.

Accursed be he who plays with the devil.

The world is ruled only by consideration of advantages.

Truth exists for the wise, beauty for the feeling heart.

Misery travels free through the whole world!