The ripeness of adolescence is prodigal in pleasures, skittish, and in need of a bridle.

The wildest colts make the best horses.

But for the sake of some little mouthful of flesh we deprive a soul of the sun and light, and of that proportion of life and time it had been born into the world to enjoy.

Our nature holds so much envy and malice that our pleasure in our own advantages is not so great as our distress at others'.

Those who aim at great deeds must also suffer greatly.

We rich men count our felicity and happiness to lie in these superfluities, and not in those necessary things.

Rest is the sweet sauce of labor.