Silence At The Proper Season Is Wisdom,

Painting Is Silent Poetry.

It Is A Difficult Task, O Citizens, To Make Speeches To The Belly, Which Has No Ears.

Where The Lion's Skin Will Not Reach, You Must Patch It Out With The Fox's.

The First Man . . . Ventured To Call Food And Nourishment The Parts That Had A Little Before Bellowed And Cried, Moved And Lived. How Could His Eyes Endure The Slaughter When Throats Were Slit And Hides Flayed And Limbs Torn From Limb? How Could His Nose Endure The Stench? How Was It That The Pollution Did Not Turn Away His Taste, Which Made Contact With The Sores Of Others And Sucked Juices And Serums From Mortal Wounds?

I Have Heard That Tiberius Used To Say That That Man Was Ridiculous, Who After Sixth Years, Appealed To A Physician.