The treason pleases, but the traitors are odious.

There's no sauce in the world like hunger.

Let everyone turn himself around, and look at home, and he will find enough to do.

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.

No fathers or mothers think their own children ugly; and this self-deceit is yet stronger with respect to the offspring of the mind.

Well, there's a remedy for all things but death, which will be sure to lay us flat one time or other.

The ass bears the load, but not the overload.