Live According To Your Income.

Lives There The Man With Soul So Dead As To Disown The Wish To Merit The People's Applause, And Having Uttered Words Worthy To Be Kept In Cedar Oil To Latest Times, To Leave Behind Him Rhymes That Dread Neither Herrings Nor Frankincense.

We Consume Our Tomorrows Fretting About Our Yesterdays.

Retire Within Thyself, And Thou Will Discover How Small A Stock Is There. [lat., Tecum Habita, Et Noris Quam Sit Tibi Curta Supellex.]

Is Any Man Free Except The One Who Can Pass His Life As He Pleases?

Out Of Nothing Can Come, And Nothing Can Become Nothing.