Give Them Bread And Circuses And They

To Lay Down One's Life For The Truth.

All Arts His Own, The Hungry Greekling Counts; And Bid Him Mount The Skies, The Skies He Mounts.

All Wish To Be Learned, But No One Is Willing To Pay The Price.

Of What Use Are Pedigrees, Or To Be Thought Of Noble Blood, Or The Display Of Family Portraits, O Ponticus?

Trust Not To Outward Show. [lat., Fronti Nulla Fides.]