The Real Beggar Is Indeed

A Single Grateful Thought Toward Heaven Is The Most Perfect Prayer.

If Some Things Don't Make You Lose Your Sense Of Reason, Then You Have None To Lose.

It Is Not I Who Die, When I Die, But My Sin And Misery.

How Can Such Deep-imprinted Images Sleep In Us At Times, Till A Word, A Sound, Awake Them?

With A Clear Sky, A Bright Sun, And A Gentle Breeze, You Will Have Friends In Plenty; But Let Fortune Frown, And The Firmament Be Overcast, And Then Your Friends Will Prove Like The Strings Of The Lute, Of Which You Will Tighten Ten Before You Find One That Will Bear The Stretch And Keep The Pitch.