Book 8 — ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:
Reading edition
Absolute freedom could be the worst of perils Add on a tired pipe after dark, and a sound sleep to follow Allowed silly sensitiveness to prevent the repair As little trouble as the heath when the woods are swept Bade his audience to beware of princes But the flower is a thing of the season; the flower drops off But to strangle craving is indeed to go through a death Is it any waste of time to write of love? Not to do things wholly is worse than not to do things at all Payment is no more so than to restore money held in trust Self, was digging pits for comfort to flow in Tears are the way of women and their comfort The love that survives has strangled craving The wretch who fears death dies multitudinously There is more in men and women than the stuff they utter Those who are rescued and made happy by circumstances To kill the deer and be sorry for the suffering wretch is common Twice a bad thing to turn sinners loose What a man hates in adversity is to see 'faces' What else is so consolatory to a ruined man? Who shuns true friends flies fortune in the concrete Would he see what he aims at? let him ask his heels You may learn to know yourself through love