We Consume Our Tomorrows Fretting About Our

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

Bad Advice Is Often Most Fatal To The Adviser.

The Belly Is The Giver Of Genius.

Oh, What A Void There Is In Things.

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.