I am like a book, with pages that have stuck together for want of use: my mind needs unpacking and the truths stored within must be turned over from time to time, to be ready when occasion demands.
The most onerous slavery is to be a slave to oneself.
So called pleasures, when they go beyond a certain limit, are but punishments.
Whom they have injured they also hate.
Associate with people who are likely to improve you.
Dangerous is wrath concealed. Hatred proclaimed doth lose its chance of wreaking vengeance.