Our manners have been corrupted by communication with the saints.

Nothing is so much to be feared as fear.

Some, it seems to me, elect their rulers for their crookedness. But I think that a straight stick makes the best cane, and an upright man the best ruler.

What fire could ever equal the sunshine of a winter's day?

It is the man determines what is said, not the words.

We must love our friend so much that she shall be associated with our purest and holiest thoughts alone.

The better part of the man is soon ploughed into the soil for compost. By a seeming fate, commonly called necessity, they are employed, as it says in an old book, laying up treasures which moth and rust will corrupt and thieves break through and steal. It is a fool's life, as they will find when they get to the end of it, if not before.