Virtue, though clothed in a beggar's garb, commands respect.
The dictates of the heart are the voice of fate.
The very plants turn with a joyful transport to the light.
An honest man you may form of windle-straws, but to make a rogue you must have grist.
Vast, colossal destiny, which raises man to fame, though it may also grind him to powder!
He who neglects the present moment throws away all he has.