A Man Without Honor is Worse than Dead.
Blessed be he who invented sleep, a cloak that covers all a man's thoughts.
The pen is the tongue of the mind.
It seldom happens that any felicity comes so pure as not to be tempered and allayed by some mixture of sorrow.
Inasmuch as ill-deeds spring up as a spontaneous crop, they are easy to learn.
Facts are the enemy of truth.