Wealth increaseth, but a nameless something is ever wanting to our insufficient fortune.

Wealth increaseth, but a nameless something is ever wanting to our insufficient fortune.

Mountains will go into labour, and a silly little mouse will be born.

The ox longs for the gaudy trappings of the horse; the lazy pack-horse would fain plough. [We envy the position of others, dissatisfied with our own.]

Whoever cultivates the golden mean avoids both the poverty of a hovel and the envy of a palace.

He possesses dominion over himself, and is happy, who can every day say, "I have lived." Tomorrow the heavenly father may either involve the world in dark clouds, or cheer it with clear sunshine, he will not, however, render ineffectual the things which have already taken place.

The earth opens impartially her bosom to receive the beggar and the prince.