The Face, Not The Woman Is The

But Grant The Wrath Of Heaven Be Great, 'tis Slow. [lat., Ut Sit Magna Tamen Certe Lenta Ira Deorum Est.]

It Is Sheer Madness To Live In Want In Order To Be Wealthy When You Die.

The Itch Of Scribbling.

For The Short-lived Bloom And Contracted Span Of Brief And Wretched Life Is Fast Fleeting Away! While We Are Drinking And Calling For Garlands, Ointments, And Women, Old Age Steals Swiftly On With Noiseless Step.

Led On By Impulse, And Blind And Ungovernable Desires.