I hear my silence talked of in every lane;
The suppression of a cry is itself a cry of pain.

With me, they (the prisoners) don't struggle. I know the real way. If it's a raw guy, they will struggle like chickens, like fish out of the water.

For death remembered should be like a mirror,
Who tells us life’s but breath, to trust it error.

It is not the man who has too little that is poor, but the one who hankers after more.

Always resignation and acceptance. Always prudence and honour and duty. Elinor, where is your heart?

You should … live in such a way that there is nothing which you could not as easily tell your enemy as keep to yourself.