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An evil life is a kind of death.
Death is less bitter punishment than death’s delay.
A new idea is delicate. It can be killed by a sneer or a yawn it can be stabbed to death by a quip and worried to death by a frown on the right man’s brow.
The high-spirited man may indeed die, but he will not stoop to meanness. Fire, though it may be quenched, will not become cool.
Habits change into character.
The bold adventurer succeeds the best.
Beauty is a fragile gift.
Art lies by its own artifice.
Like fragile ice anger passes away in time.
What is it that love does to a woman? Without she only sleeps with it alone, she lives.