Things that were hard to bear are sweet to remember.
Modesty once extinguished knows not how to return.
Nature does not reveal all her secrets at once. We imagine we are initiated in her mysteries: we are, as yet, but hanging around her outer courts.
Haste trips up its own heels, fetters and stops itself.
He who is brave is free.
Why will no man confess his faults? Because he continues to indulge in them; a man cannot tell his dream till he wakes.