All who joy would win must share it. Happiness was born a Twin.

He who grown aged in this world of woe, In deeds, not years, piercing the depths of life, So that no wonder waits him.

This is to be along; this, this is solitude!

I am so changeable, being everything by turns and nothing long - such a strange melange of good and evil.

So much alarmed that she is quite alarming

I have seen a thousand graves opened, and always perceived that whatever was gone, the teeth and hair remained of those who had died with them. Is not this odd? They go the very first things in youth and yet last the longest in the dust.

Jealousy dislikes the world to know it.