All persons are not discreet enough to know how to take things by the right handle.

The pen is the language of the soul; as the concepts that in it are generated, such will be its writings.

It is courage that vanquishes in war, and not good weapons.

A blot in thy escutcheon to all futurity.

I find my familiarity with thee has bred contempt.

Do not eat garlic or onions; for their smell will reveal that you are a peasant.

Poesy is a beauteous damsel, chaste, honourable, discreet, witty, retired, and who keeps herself within the limits of propriety. She is a friend of solitude; fountains entertain her, meadows console her, woods free her from ennui, flowers delight her; in short, she gives pleasure and instruction to all with whom she communicates.