Custom is the law of fools.
Good manners and soft words have brought many a difficult thing to pass.
Love's like virtue, its own reward.
No man is worth having is true to his wife, or can be true to his wife, or ever was, or ever will be so.
A slighted woman knows no bounds.
Friendship's said to be a plant of tedious growth, its root composed of tender fibers, nice in their taste, cautious in spreading.