Books Are A Languid Pleasure.

Fear Sometimes Adds Wings To The Heels, And Sometimes Nails Them To The Ground, And Fetters Them From Moving.

The Day Of Your Birth Leads You To Death As Well As To Life.

The Bees Pillage The Flowers Here And There But They Make Honey Of Them Which Is All Their Own; It Is No Longer Thyme Or Marjolaine: So The Pieces Borrowed From Others He Will Transform And Mix Up Into A Work All His Own.

When We Have Got It, We Want Something Else.

Wise People Are Foolish If They Cannot Adapt To Foolish People.