The mines of knowledge are often laid bare by the hazel-wand of chance.
The most wretched have yet hope.
O Death, what are thou? nurse of dreamless slumbers freshening the fevered flesh to a wakefulness eternal.
Let the misanthrope shun men and abjure; the most are rather lovable than hateful.
Power is seldom innocent, and envy is the yokefellow of eminence.
Knowledge is leagued with the universe, and findeth a friend in all things; but ignorance is everywhere a stranger, unwelcome; ill at ease and out of place.