It Is No Flattery To Give A

Lamentation Is The Only Musician That Always, Like A Screech-owl, Alights And Sits On The Roof Of Any Angry Man.

But For The Sake Of Some Little Mouthful Of Flesh We Deprive A Soul Of The Sun And Light, And Of That Proportion Of Life And Time It Had Been Born Into The World To Enjoy.

Pittacus Said, "every One Of You Hath His Particular Plague, And My Wife Is Mine; And He Is Very Happy Who Hath This Only".

Barba Non Facit Philosophum

As Geographers, Sosius, Crowd Into The Edges Of Their Maps Parts Of The World Which They Do Not Know About, Adding Notes In The Margin To The Effect That Beyond This Lies Nothing But Sandy Deserts Full Of Wild Beasts, And Unapproachable Bogs.