Pray, look better, sir... those things yonder are no giants, but windmills.
Hunger is the best sauce in the world.
There is a remedy for everything but death; who, in spite of our teeth, will take us in his clutches.
The wounds received in battle bestow honor, they do not take it away.
She wanted, with her fickleness, to make my destruction constant; I want, by trying to destroy myself, to satisfy her desire.
There were no embraces, because where there is great love there is often little display of it.