You may build castles in the air, and fume, and fret, and grow thin and lean, and pale and ugly, if you please. But I tell you, no man worth having is true to his wife, or can be true to his wife, or ever was, or will be so.

Custom is the law of fools.

You may build castles in the air, and fume, and fret, and grow thin and lean, and pale and ugly, if you please. But I tell you, no man worth having is true to his wife, or can be true to his wife, or ever was, or will be so.

Virtue is its own reward. There's a pleasure in doing good which sufficiently pays itself.

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.

Repentance for past crimes is just and easy; but sin-no-more's a task too hard for mortals