It is a madness to make fortune the mistress of events, because in herself she is nothing, can rule nothing, but is ruled by prudence.
None but the brave deserve the fair.
She feared no danger, for she knew no sin.
That gloomy outside, like a rusty chest, contains the shoring treasure of a soul resolved and brave.
Boldness is a mask for fear, however great.
Truth is the object of our understanding, as good is of our will; and the understanding can no more be delighted with a lie than the will can choose an apparent evil.