We Die Only Once, And For Such

Nothing Can Be Fairer, Or More Noble, Than The Holy Fervor Of True Zeal.

We Live Under A Prince Who Is An Enemy To Fraud, A Prince Whose Eyes Penetrate Into The Heart, And Whom All The Art Of Impostors Can't Deceive.

It's True Heaven Forbids Some Pleasures, But A Compromise Can Usually Be Found.

In Clothes As Well As Speech, The Man Of Sense Will Shun All These Extremes That Give Offense, Dress Unaffectedly, And, Without Haste, Follow The Changes In The Current Taste.

You Are A Fool In Four Letters, My Son.