Jealousy's a proof of love, But 'tis a weak and unavailing medicine; It puts out the disease and makes it show, But has no power to cure.

It's a hard world, neighbors, if a man's oath must be his master.

A thing well said will be wit in all languages.

Dead men tell no tales.

For all have not the gift of martyrdom.

To breed up the son to common sense is evermore the parent's least expense.

I strongly wish for what I faintly hope; like the daydreams of melancholy men, I think and think in things impossible, yet love to wander in that golden maze.