Oh God, I say not hear my prayers! I say: Blot with forgiving pen my sins away!
Shut the door of that house of pleasure which you hear resounding with the loud voice of a woman.
Be not in the desire of thine own ease.
The covetous map explores the whole world in pursuit of a subsistence, and fate is close at his heels.
A peace-mingling falsehood is preferable to a mischief-stirring truth.
Virtue pardons the wicked, as the sandal-tree perfumes the axe which strikes it.