There is a remedy for everything but death, who will take us in his clutches spite of our teeth.
Show me who thou art with, and I will tell thee what thou art.
Not with whom thou wert bred, but with whom thou art fed.
Sorrow was made for man, not for beasts; yet if men encourage melancholy too much, they become no better than beasts.
"Thou bringest me good news, then?" cried Don Quixote.