It is no flattery to give a friend a due character; for commendation is as much the duty of a friend as reprehension.

Talkativeness has another plague attached to it, even curiosity; for praters wish to hear much that they may have much to say.

It is wise to be silent when occasion requires, and better than to speak, though never so well.

The first man . . . ventured to call food and nourishment the parts that had a little before bellowed and cried, moved and lived. How could his eyes endure the slaughter when throats were slit and hides flayed and limbs torn from limb? How could his nose endure the stench? How was it that the pollution did not turn away his taste, which made contact with the sores of others and sucked juices and serums from mortal wounds?

Nor let us part with justice, like a cheap and common thing, for a small and trifling price.

A lover's soul lives in the body of his mistress.

When a man's eyes are sore his friends do not let him finger them, however much he wishes to, nor do they themselves touch the inflammation: But a man sunk in grief suffers every chance comer to stir and augment his affliction like a running sore; and by reason of the fingering and consequent irritation it hardens into a serious and intractable evil.