If I am mad, then who on the face of the earth is sane? If you are sane, then there is no madman in the world.

Flowers and fruit are never combined in one place: it is impossible that teeth and delicacies should exist simultaneously.

The life of this transitory world is the expectation of death: to renounce life is to escape from the expectation of annihilation.

When a man becomes old, his greed becomes young: sleep grows heavy at the time of morning.

In this market every head has a different fancy: everyone winds his turban in a different fashion.

The weeping of the candle is not in mourning for the moth: the dawn is at hand, and it is thinking of its own dark night.

The touchstone of false friends is the day of need: by way of proof, ask a loan from your friends.