natures, thou layest aside thy own
     Immoderate either seeking or evading glory or reputation
     Impunity pass with us for justice
     It is not for outward show that the soul is to play its part
     Knowledge of others, wherein the honour consists
     Lessen the just value of things that I possess
     License of judgments is a great disturbance to great affairs
     Lose what I have a particular care to lock safe up
     Loses more by defending his vineyard than if he gave it up. 
     More brave men been lost in occasions of little moment
     More solicitous that men speak of us, than how they speak
     My affection alters, my judgment does not
     No way found to tranquillity that is good in common
     Not being able to govern events, I govern myself
     Not conceiving things otherwise than by this outward bark
     Not for any profit, but for the honour of honesty itself
     Nothing is more confident than a bad poet
     Nothing that so poisons as flattery
     Obedience is never pure nor calm in him who reasons and disputes
     Occasions of the least lustre are ever the most dangerous
     Of the fleeting years each steals something from me
     Office of magnanimity openly and professedly to love and hate
     Old age:  applaud the past and condemn the present
     One may be humble out of pride
     Our will is more obstinate by being opposed
     Overvalue things, because they are foreign, absent
     Philopoemen:  paying the penalty of my ugliness. 
     Pleasing all:  a mark that can never be aimed at or hit
     Poets
     Possession begets a contempt of what it holds and rules
     Prolong his life also prolonged and augmented his pain
     Regret so honourable a post, where necessity must make them bold
     Sense:  no one who is not contented with his share
     Setting too great a value upon ourselves
     Setting too little a value upon others
     She who only refuses, because ’tis forbidden, consents
     Short of the foremost, but before the last
     Souls that are regular and strong of themselves are rare
     Suicide:  a morsel that is to be swallowed without chewing
     Take all things at the worst, and to resolve to bear that worst
     The age we live in produces but very indifferent things
     The reward of a thing well done is to have done it
     The satiety of living, inclines a man to desire to die
     There is no reason that has not its contrary
     They do not see my heart, they see but my countenance
     Those who can please and hug themselves in what they do
     Tis far beyond not fearing death to taste and relish it
     To forbid us anything is to make us have a mind to’t
     Voice and determination of the rabble, the mother of ignorance
     Vulgar reports and opinions that drive us on
     We believe we do not