Nothing is more capable of troubling our reason, and consuming our health, than secret notions of jealousy in solitude.

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He that knew all that learning ever writ, Knew only this - that he knew nothing yet.

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Faith, sir, we are here today, and gone tomorrow.

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Love ceases to be a pleasure when it ceases to be a secret.

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Each moment of a happy lover's hour is worth an age of dull and common life.

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Money speaks sense in a language all nations understand.

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There is no sinner like a young saint.

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One hour of right-down love is worth an age of dully living on.

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That perfect tranquillity of life, which is nowhere to be found but in retreat, a faithful friend and a good library.

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