The greenest turf covers the blackest soil.

* * * * *

Only an earthquake can shake a selfish soul.

* * * * *

One woman-wolf is more to be dreaded than a den of lions.

* * * * *

There are women whose smile is poison, whose touch is death.

* * * * *

Bequeath your good deeds to memory, your bad deeds to oblivion.

* * * * *

Pity, as soft as feathered flakes of snow, whitens all it falls upon.

* * * * *

If we peep behind a curtain we may see the ghost of our own hopes grinning at us.

* * * * *

The albatross, like a great soul, remains aloft without the flutter of a feather.

* * * * *

My sovereign hope is the inate desire of the human heart that justice be done.

* * * * *

Love is as much higher, than justice as is the tallest mountain above an ant hill.

* * * * *

The people have so often been beguiled that now they refuse to believe the truth.

* * * * * Why is it that down hill is always greased?

* * * * *

A stain upon a woman’s honour is indelible.

* * * * *

Insolence is brutal—­arrogance, intolerable.

* * * * *

The seeds of ill grow best in the most sterile soil.

* * * * *

A heart pickled in gall cannot be called a sweetmeat.

* * * * *

The promise of eternal sleep is not sweet to a live man.

* * * * *

The most worthless woman is bought at the highest price.

* * * * *

A man can put away his wife but he cannot divorce a memory.

* * * * *

Many of our good intentions are so feeble, that like snow flakes, they melt as they come.

* * * * *

The earth is a fertile womb bringing forth fruits for all.  A few men claim they are God’s first sons and take the crop.

* * * * *

There are women who breath forth intoxicating perfumes.  The man who inhales them is in danger of great good or of great evil.

* * * * *

Nature, unheard, performs her greatest deeds.

* * * * *

Ingratitude is a tree whose fruit poisons the very air.

* * * * *

Many could make lye out of the cold ashes of their hopes.