Literary tradition is full of lies about poverty-the jolly beggar, the poor but happy milkmaid, the wholesome diet of porridge, etc.
Striving toward a goal puts a more pleasing construction on our advance toward death.
The man of sensibility is too busy talking about his feelings to have time for good deeds.
The doctrine of the immortality of the soul has more threat than comfort.
Enjoy the insult as you deliver it, before you learn its cost.
Leisure unmasks our weaknesses.