When Two Souls Compose A Single Song,

The Same Man Cannot Well Be Skilled In Everything; Each Has His Special Excellence.

There Is Something In The Pang Of Change More Than The Heart Can Bear, Unhappiness Remembering Happiness.

The Stillest Tongue Can Be The Truest Friend.

Everyone Asks If A Man Is Rich, No One If He Is Good.

But Woe To Him, Who Left To Moan, Reviews The Hours Of Brightness Gone.