Hope is a pleasant acquaintance, but an unsafe friend, not the man for your banker, though he may do for a traveling companion.
Contentment is, after all, simply refined indolence.
Fastidiousness is the envelope of indelicacy.
Money is a necessity; so is dirt.
Avarice fills its purse at the expense of its belly.
He who sports compliments, unless he takes good aim, may miss his mark, and be wounded by the recoil of his own weapon.