We are not all equal, nor can we be so.
What you have inherited from your fathers, earn over again for yourselves, or it will not be yours.
To be pleased with one's limits is a wretched state.
One errs as long as one strives.
The miller imagines that the corn grows only to make his mill turn.
We can stand only a certain amount of unhappiness; anything beyond that annihilates us or passes us by, leaving us apathethetic.