All the married heiresses I have known have shipwrecked.

It belongs to a nobleman to weep in an hour of disaster.

When arms speak, the laws are silent.

Once you hear the details of a victory it is hard to distinguish it from a defeat.

Why listen to me? I can only predict epidemics and plagues.

All men that are ruined, are ruined on the side of their natural propensities.

It’s the end of the world every day, for someone.

It would be impossible to live for a year without disaster unless one practiced character-reading.

Pride and excess bring disaster for man.

To hide and feel guilty would be the beginning of defeat.

I think we are inexterminable, like flies and bedbugs.

We’ve got to live, no matter how many skies have fallen.

Is all our fire of shipwreck wood?