I Do Not Drink More Than A

Gargantua, At The Age Of Four Hundred Four Score And Forty- Four Years Begat His Son Pantagruel, From His Wife, Named Badebec, Daughter Of The King Of The Amaurotes In Utopia, Who Died In Child-birth: Because He Was Marvelously Huge And So Heavy That He Could Not Come To Light Without Suffocating His Mother.

The Age Was Still Dark And Reeked Of The Havoc And Misfortunes Of The Goths Who Had Put All Good Literature To Destruction. But, By God's Goodness, In My Time Light And Dignity Were Returned To Letters, And I See There Such Improvement That Today I Would Have Great Difficulty Being Admitted To The Most Elementary Classes--i, Who In My Time Was Reputed To Be (and Not Wrongly) To Be The Most Knowledgeable Person Of The Century.

Not Everyone Is A Debtor Who Wishes To Be; Not Everyone Who Wishes Makes Creditors.

I Do Not Drink More Than A Sponge.

If You Want To Avoid Seeing An Idiot, Break The Mirror.