We call comeliness a mischance in the first respect, which belongs principally to the face.

Man is certainly crazy. He could not make a mite, and he makes gods by the dozen.

The premeditation of death is the premeditation of liberty; he who has learnt to die has forgot to serve.

If you press me to say why I loved him, I can say no more than it was because he was he, and I was I.

Man is quite insane. He wouldn?t know how to create a maggot, and he creates Gods by the dozen.

He that first likened glory to a shadow did better than he was aware of. They are both of them things excellently vain. Glory also, like a shadow, goes sometimes before the body, and sometimes in length infinitely exceeds it.

Pleasure itself is painful at the bottom.