Nature confesses that she has bestowed on the human race hearts of softest mould, in that she has given us tears.
Of the woes Of unhappy poverty, none is more difficult to bear Than that it heaps men with ridicule.
The love of popularity holds you in a vice.
Peace visits not the guilty mind.
The face, not the woman is the attraction.
Such men as fortune raises from a mean estate to the highest elevation by way of a joke.