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For, when with beauty we can virtue join, We paint the semblance of a form divine.
– Matthew Prior
And ’tis remarkable that they talk most who have the least to say.
They never taste who always drink: They always talk, who never think.
Fantastic tyrant of the amorous heart. How hard thy yoke, how cruel thy dart. Those escape your anger who refuse your sway, and those are punished most, who most obey.
Who walks the fastest, but walks astray, is only furthest from his way.
They talk most who have the least to say.
The ends must justify the means.
Hope is but the dream of those who wake.
Cured yesterday of my disease, I died last night of my physician.
Be to their virtue very kind; be to their faults a little blind.
It takes two to quarrel, but only one to end it.