When Malice Is Joined To Envy, There

Nature And Wisdom Never Are At Strife.

Riches For The Most Part Are Hurtful To Them That Possess Them.

For, In The Language Of Heraclitus, The Virtuous Soul Is Pure And Unmixed Light, Springing From The Body As A Flash Of Lightning Darts From The Cloud. But The Soul That Is Carnal And Immersed In Sense, Like A Heavy And Dank Vapor, Can With Difficulty Be Kindled, And Caused To Raise Its Eyes Heavenward.

Painting Is Silent Poetry, And Poetry Is Painting That Speaks.

The Very Spring And Root Of Honesty And Virtue Lie In Good Education.