I find my familiarity with thee has bred contempt.
Do you see over yonder, friend Sancho, thirty or forty hulking giants? I intend to do battle with them and slay them.
Good actions ennoble us, and we are the sons of our deeds.
All sorrows are bearable, if there is bread.
Valor lies just halfway between rashness and cowardice.
All the vices, Sancho, bring some kind of pleasure with them; but envy brings nothing but irritation, bitterness, and rage.