O Jealousy! Thou Magnifier Of Trifles.

As Inclination Changes, Thus Ebbs And Flows The Unstable Tide Of Public Judgment.

If Yon Wish To Be Like The Gods On Earth, To Be Free In The Realms Of The Dead, Pluck Not The Fruit From The Garden! In Appearance It May Glisten To The Eye; But The Perishable Pleasure Of Possession Quickly Avenges The Curse Of Curiosity.

Innocence Has A Friend In Heaven.

Most Gladly Would I Give The Blood-stained Laurel For The First Violet Which March Brings Us, The Fragrant Pledge Of The New-fledged Year.

The Future Comes Slowly, The Present Flies And The Past Stands Still Forever.