Grief is put to flight and assuaged by generous draughts.

The crop always seems better in our neighbor's field, and our neighbor's cow gives more milk.

Grief brims itself and flows away in tears.

Love is an affair of credulity.

She only is chaste, who is chaste where there is no danger of detection: she who does not, because she may not, does.

The more highminded a man is the more easily is his anger appeased.

While I am speaking the opportunity is lost.