Literary tradition is full of lies about poverty-the jolly beggar, the poor but happy milkmaid, the wholesome diet of porridge, etc.
Life is the risk we cannot refuse.
I feel affluent or not according to what part of town I am in.
Reading civilized the inner life.
Idleness makes people feeble and peevish. Work makes them stalwart and prone to anger.
Virtue sometimes pretends. Vice is always sincere.