It is sweet to mingle tears with tears; Griefs, where they wound in solitude, Wound more deeply.

If you live according to nature, you never will be poor; if according to the world's caprice, you will never be rich.

Why does no one confess his sins? Because he is yet in them. It is for a man who has awoke from sleep to tell his dreams.

Death is sometimes a punishment, often a gift; to many it has been a favor.

Those alone are wise who know how to love.

It is dishonorable to say one thing and think another; how much more dishonorable to write one thing and think another.

That loss is most discreditable which is caused by negligence.