There's man all over for you, blaming on his boots the fault of his feet.

What do I know of man's destiny? I could tell you more about radishes.

Absolute virtue is as sure to kill a man as absolute vice is, let alone the dullness of it and the pomposities of it

You're on earth. There's no cure for that.

If you do not love me I shall not be loved If I do not love you I shall not love.

to walk for kilometers without socks in boots with bloody feet.