The sharp thorn often produces delicate roses.
Time is a stream which glides smoothly on and is past before we know.
Burdens become light when cheerfully borne.
It is but a small merit to observe silence, but it is a grave fault to speak of matters on which we should be silent.
Few love what they may have.
She only is chaste, who is chaste where there is no danger of detection: she who does not, because she may not, does.