The Air In Provence Is Impregnated With

Be Kind. Aim For My Heart.

You Who Weep For Pleasures Fled, While Dragging On A Life Of Care, All Your Woes Will Melt In Air, If To God Your Tears Are Shed, You Who Weap!

Time, Dear Friend, Time Brings Round Opportunity; Opportunity Is The Martingale Of Man. The More We Have Ventured The More We Gain, When We Know How To Wait.

You Who Are In Power Have Only The Means That Money Produces — We Who Are In Expectation, Have Those Which Devotion Prompts.

For In Those Tacit Understandings Which Maintain The Bond Of Family Union, The Mother Is Really The Mistress Of Her Daughter Only Upon The Condition Of Continually Presenting Herself To Her As A Model Of Wisdom And Type Of Perfection.