Our lives are but specks of dust falling through the fingers of time. Like sands of the hourglass, so are the days of our lives.

The greatest way to live with honor in this world is to be what we pretend to be.

I will not yield to any man contrary to what is right, for fear of death, even if I should die at once for not yielding.

The perfect human being is all human beings put together, it is a collective, it is all of us together that make perfection.

A painter will paint a cobbler, carpenter, or any other artist, though he knows nothing of their arts; and, if he is a good artist, he may deceive children or simple persons, when he shows them his picture of a carpenter from a distance, and they will fancy that they are looking at a real carpenter.

When a woman is allowed to become a man's equal, she becomes his superior.

Who knows if to live is to be dead, and to be dead, to live? And we really, it may be, are dead; in fact I once heard sages say that we are now dead, and the body is our tomb.