The heart of man is the place the devil dwells in; I feel sometimes a hell within myself.

Nor do they speak properly who say that time consumeth all things; for time is not effective, nor are bodies destroyed by it.

Sleep is death's younger brother, and so like him, that I never dare trust him without my prayers.

A wise man is out of the reach of fortune.

Every Country hath its Machiavel.

Gold once out of the earth is no more due unto it; what was unreasonably committed to the ground, is reasonably resumed from it; let monuments and rich fabricks, not riches, adorn men's ashes.

Content may dwell in all stations. To be low but above contempt may be high enough to be happy.