Of Great Wealth There Is No Real

All Artists Are Vain, They Long To Be Recognized And To Leave Something To Posterity. They Want To Be Loved, And At The Same Time They Want To Be Free. But Nobody Is Free.

Vain-glorious Men Are The Scorn Of The Wise, The Admiration Of Fools, The Idols Of Paradise, And The Slaves Of Their Own Vaunts.

Many A Man's Strength Is In Opposition, And When He Faileth, He Grows Out Of Use.

They Who Derive Their Worth From Their Ancestors Resemble Potatoes, The Most Valuable Part Of Which Is Underground.

Lies Are Sufficient To Breed Opinion, And Opinion Brings On Substance.