Trust not him with your secrets, who, when left alone in your room, turns over your papers.

Let none turn over books, or roam the stars in quest of God, who sees him not in man.

Neatness begets order; but from order to taste there is the same difference as from taste to genius, or from love to friendship.

Him, who incessantly laughs in the street, you may commonly hear grumbling in his closet.

The closer and more confidential our relationship with someone, the less we are entitled to ask about what we are not voluntarily told.

To whom thy secret thou dost tell, to him thy freedom thou dost sell.

To tell tales out of school.