The Belly Is The Giver Of Genius.

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

But When To-morrow Comes, Yesterday's Morrow Will Have Been Already Spent: And Lo! A Fresh Morrow Will Be For Ever Making Away With Our Years, Each Just Beyond Our Grasp.

The Man Who Wishes To Bend Me With His Tale Of Woe Must Shed True Tears - Not Tears That Have Been Got Ready Overnight.

Thou Art Moist And Soft Clay; Thou Must Instantly Be Shaped By The Glowing Wheel. [lat., Udum Et Molle Lutum Es: Nunc, Nunc Properandus Et Acri Fingendus Sine Fine Rota.]

O Natal Star, Thou Producest Twins Of Widely Different Character. [lat., Geminos, Horoscope, Varo Producis Genio.]