Ignorance Can Be Cured, But Stupidity Is

Weak Mortals, Chained To The Earth, Creatures Of Clay As Frail As The Foliage Of The Woods, You Unfortunate Race, Whose Life Is But Darkness, As Unreal As A Shadow, The Illusion Of A Dream.

To Win The People, Always Cook Them Some Savoury That Pleases Them.

Let Each Man Exercise The Art He Knows.

Have You Ever, Looking Up, Seen A Cloud Like To A Centaur, A Part, Or A Wolf, Or A Bull?

Ye Children Of Man! Whose Life Is A Span, Protracted With Sorrow From Day To Day, Naked And Featherless, Feeble And Querulous, Sickly, Calamitous Creatures Of Clay!