In this treacherous world Nothing is the truth nor a lie. Everything depends on the color Of the crystal through which one sees it

If a pretty woman only knew how anger improved her beauty! Her complexion needs no other paint than indignation.

One may know how to gain a victory, and know not how to use it.

Grief has been compared to a hydra; for every one that dies, two are born.

A good action is never lost; it is a treasure laid up and guarded for the doer's need.

No windows give a better view than those a man brings with him in his head, not asking for tickets of admission, since at all functions, festivals, or feasts he looks out with the same nice self-composure.

Our treasures trifles seem, and all our life is dreaming, and the dreams themselves are dreams.