“I won’t undertake war until I have tried all the arts and means of peace.”

The most Christian France is the sole wet-nurse to the Roman court.

Believe me, ’tis a godlike thing to lend; to owe is a heroic virtue.

Row on whatever happens.

War begun without good provision of money beforehand for going through with it is but as a breathing of strength and blast that will quickly pass away. Coin is the sinews of war.

He who has not an adventure has not horse or mule, so says Solomon.–Who is too adventurous, said Echephron,–loses horse and mule.

A little rain beats down a big wind. Long drinking bouts break open the tunder.

Fate leads the willing, and th’ unwilling draws.

Don’t limp in front of the lame.

I build only living stones–men.

I am going to seek a grand perhaps.

Ignorance is the mother of all evils.

A child is not a vase to be filled, but a fire to be lit.

How can I govern others, who can’t even govern myself?

I drink eternally. For me it is an eternity of drinking, and a drinking up of eternity.

Giving words is an act of lovers.

Such is the nature and make-up of the French that they are only good at the start. Then they are worse than devils, but, given time, they’re less than women.