A Fool Is One Whom Simpletons Believe

Men Make The Best Friends.

Days, Months, Years Fly Away, And Irrecoverably Sink In The Abyss Of Time.

Life Is Short And Tedious, And Is Wholly Spent In Wishing; We Trust To Find Rest And Enjoyment At Some Future Time, Often At An Age When Our Best Blessings, Youth And Health, Have Already Left Us. When At Last I That Time Has Arrived, It Surprises Us In The Midst Of Fresh Desires; We Have Got No Farther When We Are Attacked By A Fever Which Kills Us; If We Had Been Cured, It Would Only Have Been To Give Us More Time For Other Desires.

Rarely Do They Appear Great Before Their Valets. [fr., Rarement Ils Sont Grands Vis-a-vis De Leur Valets-de-chambre.]

I Am Not Surprised That There Are Gambling Houses, Like So Many Snares Laid For Human Avarice; Like Abysses Where Many A Man's Money Is Engulfed And Swallowed Up Without Any Hope Of Return; Like Frightful Rocks Against Which The Gamblers Are Thrown And Perish.