How little is the promise of the child fulfilled in the man.
He whom all hate all wish to see destroyed.
Often they benefit who suffer wrong.
People are slow to claim confidence in undertakings of magnitude.
The good of other times let people state; I think it lucky I was born so late.
The prayers of cowards fortune spurns.
Nothing is more powerful than custom or habit.
Love is a credulous thing.
Let others praise ancient times; I am glad I was born in these.
He who says o’er much I love not is in love.
Whether they give or refuse, it delights women just the same to have been asked.
Use the occasion, for it passes swiftly.
Love is full of anxious fears.
It is the poor man who’ll ever count his flock.
He who can believe himself well, will be well.