Nothing flows from her, vile rabble.

Here, said Don Quixote when he saw it, we can, brother Sancho Panza, plunge our hands all the way up to the elbows into this thing they call adventures.

Well, there's a remedy for all things but death, which will be sure to lay us flat one time or other.

Sometimes when a father has an ugly, loutish son, the love he bears him so blindfolds his eyes that he does not see his defects, or, rather, takes them for gifts and charms of mind and body, and talks of them to his friends as wit and grace.

Dame Fortune once upon a day To me was bountiful and kind; But all things change; she changed her mind, And what she gave she took away. O Fortune, long I've sued to thee; The gifts thou gavest me restore, For, trust me, I would ask no more, Could 'was' become an 'is' for me.

Sancho tried to amuse him and cheer him up by chatting to him, and said, among other things, what is recorded in the next chapter.

He finally resolved to call the horse Rocinante.