Whether you call my heart affectionate, or you call it womanish: I confess, that to my misfortune, it is soft.

Whilst you are prosperous you can number many friends; but when the storm comes you are left alone.

I am above being injured by fortune, though she steals away much, more will remain with me. The blessing I now enjoy transcend fear.

Women's words are as light as the doomed leaves whirling in autumn, Easily swept by the wind, easily drowned by the wave.

Hastiness is the beginning of wrath, and its end repentance.

Everyone's a millionaire where promises are concerned.

How little you know about the age you live in if you think that honey is sweeter than cash in hand