Miguel de Cervantes Quotes
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Since Don Quixote de la Mancha is a crazy fool and a madman, and since Sancho Panza, his squire, knows it, yet, for all that, serves and follows him, and hangs on these empty promises of his, there can be no doubt that he is more of a madman and a fool than his master.
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The virtuous woman must be treated like a relic - adored, but not handled; she should be guarded and prized, like a fine flower-garden, the beauty and fragrance of which the owner allows others to enjoy only at a distance, and through iron walls.
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I do not believe that the Good Lord plays dice.
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Patience and shuffle the cards.
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Beware, gentle knight - the greatest monster of them all is reason.
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I would have nobody to control me; I would be absolute: and who but I? Now, he that is absolute can do what he likes; he that can do what he likes can take his pleasure; he that can take his pleasure can be content; and he that can be content has no more to desire. So the matter 's over; and come what will come, I am satisfied.
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He who loses wealth loses much; he who loses a friend loses more; but he that loses his courage loses all.
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True valor lies in the middle between cowardice and rashness.
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From reading too much, and sleeping too little, his brain dried up on him and he lost his judgment.
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Fortune leaves always some door open to come at a remedy.
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Leap out of the frying pan into the fire.
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Other men's pains are easily borne.
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A knowledge of thyself will preserve thee from vanity.
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The pitcher goes so often to the fountain that if gets broken.
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Abundance, even of good things, prevents them from being valued.
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Faint heart ne'er won fair lady.
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Take away the motive, and you take away the sin.
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She wanted, with her fickleness, to make my destruction constant; I want, by trying to destroy myself, to satisfy her desire.
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No fathers or mothers think their own children ugly.
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Seek for good, but expect evil.
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Well-gotten wealth may lose itself, but the ill-gotten loses its master also.
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In the night all cats are gray.
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Every one in his own house and God in all of them.
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To think that the affairs of this life always remain in the same state is a vain presumption; indeed they all seem to be perpetually changing and moving in a circular course. Spring is followed by summer, summer by autumn, and autumn by winter, which is again followed by spring, and so time continues its everlasting round. But the life of man is ever racing to its end, swifter than time itself, without hope of renewal, unless in the next that is limitless and infinite.