Happy the man to whom heaven has given a morsel of bread without laying him under the obligation of thanking any other for it than heaven itself.

I know well enough that there have been dogs so loving that they have thrown themselves into the same grave with the dead bodies of their masters.

Our hours in love have wings; in absence, crutches.

The proof is in the pudding.

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

All the vices, Sancho, bring some kind of pleasure with them; but envy brings nothing but irritation, bitterness, and rage.

Nor has his death the world deceiv'd than his wondrous life surprise d; if he like a madman liv'd least he like a wise one dy'd.