Do You Expect, Forsooth, That A Mother

Led On By Impulse, And Blind And Ungovernable Desires.

Be A Gentleman Farmer.

Let Me Moderate Our Sorrows. The Grief Of A Man Should Not Exceed Proper Bounds, But Be In Proportion To The Blow He Has Received. [lat., Ponamus Nimios Gemitus: Flagrantior Aequo Non Debet Dolor Esse Viri, Nec Vulnere Major.]

A Rare Bird On This Earth, Like Nothing So Much As A Black Swan.

Beasts Of Like Kind Will Spare Those Of Kindred Spots.