High birth is an accident, not a virtue.

If our inward griefs were seen written on our brow, how many would be pitied who are now envied! [It., Se a ciascun l'interno affanno Si leggesse in fronte scritto, Quanti mai, che invidia fanno, Ci farebbero pieta!].

If every man's internal care Were written on his brow, How many would our pity share Who raise our envy now?

It is the just decree of Heaven that a traitor never sees his danger till his ruin is at hand.

The aged oak upon the steep stands more firm and secure if assailed by angry winds; for if the winter bares its head, the more strongly it strikes its roots into the ground, acquiring strength as it loses beauty.

If the internal griefs of every man could be read, written on his forehead, how many who now excite envy would appear to be the objects of pity?

Prepare thy soul calmly to obey; such offering will be more acceptable to God than every other sacrifice.