the heart
     Flee from hate as the soul’s worst foe
     Folly to fret over what cannot be undone
     For fear of the toothache, had his sound teeth drawn
     For the sake of those eyes you forgot all else
     For the errors of the wise the remedy is reparation, not regret
     For what will not custom excuse and sanctify? 
     Forbidden the folly of spoiling the present by remorse
     Force which had compelled every one to do as his neighbors
     Forty or fifty, when most women only begin to be wicked
     From Epicurus to Aristippus, is but a short step
     Fruits and pies and sweetmeats for the little ones at home
     Full as an egg
     Galenus—­What I like is bad for me, what I loathe is wholesome
     Gave them a claim on your person and also on your sorrows
     Germans are ever proud of a man who is able to drink deep
     Go down into the grave before us (Our children)
     Golden chariot drawn by tamed lions
     Good advice is more frequently unheeded than followed
     Great happiness, and mingled therefor with bitter sorrow
     Greeks have not the same reverence for truth
     Grief is grief, and this new sorrow does not change the old one
     Had laid aside what we call nerves
     Half-comprehended catchwords serve as a banner
     Hanging the last king with the guts of the last priest
     Happiness has nothing to do with our outward circumstances
     Happiness is only the threshold to misery
     Happiness should be found in making others happy
     Harder it is to win a thing the higher its value becomes
     Hast thou a wounded heart? touch it seldom
     Hat is the sign of liberty, and the free man keeps his hat on
     Hate, though never sated, can yet be gratified
     Hatred and love are the opposite ends of the same rod
     Hatred for all that hinders the growth of light
     Hatred between man and man
     Have not yet learned not to be astonished
     Have never been fain to set my heart on one only maid
     Have lived to feel such profound contempt for the world
     He may talk about the soul—­what he is after is the girl
     He who kills a cat is punished (for murder)
     He who looks for faith must give faith
     He is clever and knows everything, but how silly he looks now
     He was steadfast in everything, even anger
     He only longed to be hopeful once more, to enjoy the present
     He who is to govern well must begin by learning to obey
     He was made to be plundered
     He is the best host, who allows his guests the most freedom
     He has the gift of being easily consoled
     He who wholly abjures folly is a fool
     He out of the battle can easily boast of being unconquered
     He spoke with pompous exaggeration
     Held in too slight esteem to be able to offer an affront
     Her white cat was playing