Anger is short-lived madness.

Deep in the cavern of the infant's breast; the father's nature lurks, and lives anew.

My cares and my inquiries are for decency and truth, and in this I am wholly occupied.

I was what you are, you will be what I am.

Hidden knowledge differs little from ignorance.

If you wish me to weep, you yourself must first feel grief.

Scribblers are a self-conceited and self-worshipping race.