Fate's Arrow, When Expected, Travels Slow.

Of My Sowing Such Straw I Reap. O Human Folk, Why Set The Heart There Where Exclusion Of Partnership Is Necessary

Lying In A Featherbed Will Bring You No Fame, Nor Staying Beneath The Quilt, And He Who Uses Up His Life Without Achieving Fame Leaves No More Vestige Of Himself On Earth Than Smoke In The Air Or Foam Upon The Water.

The Customs And Fashions Of Men Change Like Leaves On The Bough, Some Of Which Go And Others Come.

That With Him Were, What Time The Love Divine

I Care Not Where My Body May Take Me As Long As My Soul Is Embarked On A Meaningful Journey.