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 believe We consider our death as a very great thing We have not the thousandth part of ancient writings We have taught the ladies to blush We set too much value upon ourselves Were more ambitious of a great reputation than of a good one What a man says should be what he thinks What he did by nature and accident, he cannot do by design What is more accidental than reputation? What, shall so much knowledge be lost Wiser who only know what is needful for them to know