Law is a silvery web that lets the big flies pass and catches all the small ones.
Let nothing dupe you! Such is the horrible maxim that acts as a solvent upon every noble feeling man experiences.
Carelessness in dressing is moral suicide.
Does not any limit imposed upon one inspire a desire to go beyond it? Does not our keenest suffering arise when our free will is crossed?
The wounds of self-love turn incurable when the oxide of self-love gets into them.
Love has its own instinct, finding the way to the heart, as the feeblest insect finds the way to its flower, with a will which nothing can dismay nor turn aside.