Every good act is charity. A man's true wealth hereafter is the good that he does in this world to his fellows.

Man, I can assure you, is a nasty creature.

Long is the road from conception to completion.

All the power is with the sex that wears the beard.

Then worms shall try That long preserved virginity, And your quaint honor turn to dust, And into ashes all my lust. The grave's a fine and private place But none, I think, do there embrace.

In society one needs a flexible virtue; too much goodness can be blamable.

Gold is the key, whatever else we try; and that sweet metal aids the conqueror in every case, in love as well as war.