The master proves himselin recognizing his limitations.
Be generous with kindly words, especially about those who are absent.
The confidant of my vices is my master, though he were my valet.
Could we perfect human nature, we might also expect a perfect state of things.
The soul-stirring image of death is no bugbear to the sage, and is looked on without despair by the pious. It teaches the former to live, and it strengthens the hopes of the latter in salvation in the midst of distress. Death is new life to both.
A rainbow which lasts for a quarter of an hour is looked at no longer.