Gold is the fool's curtain, which hides all his defects from the world.

It is a most unhappy state to be at a distance with God: man needs no greater infelicity than to be left to himself.

Vice is a peripatetic, always in progression.

Human life has not a surer friend, nor oftentimes a greater enemy, than hope. It is the miserable man's god, which in the hardest gripe of calamity never fails to yield to him beams of comfort. It is the presumptuous man's devil, which leads him a while in a smooth way, and then suddenly breaks his neck.

The irresolute man flecks from one egg to another, so hatches nothing.

He who would be singular in his apparel had need have something superlative to balance that affectation.

Take heed of a speedy professing friend; love is never lasting which flames before it burns.