Perugia is my true fatherland because there I grew to manhood.

We are the buffoons of our children.

Angry men are blind and foolish, for reason at such time takes flight and, in her absence; wrath plunders all the riches of the intellect, while the judgment remains the prisoner of its own pride.

What evil is there in seeing a man possess a woman? Why, the beasts would be more free than we!

I love you, and because I love you, I would sooner have you hate me for telling you the truth than adore me for telling you lies.

Why should I be ashamed to describe what nature was not ashamed to create?

The art of war is like the art of the courtesan; indeed they might be called sisters, since both are slaves of desperation.