We eagerly get hold of a law that serves as a weapon to our passions.
Who never ate his bread in sorrow, Who never spent the darksome hours Weeping, and watching for the morrow,- He knows you not, ye heavenly Powers.
He who does not know foreign languages does not know anything about his own.
The society of women is the element of good manners.
Unrest and uncertainty are our lot.
Once I blazed across the sky, Leaving trails of flame; I fell to earth, and here I lie - Who'll help me up again? -A Shooting Star