He Who Conquers, Endures.

Please Not Thyself The Flattering Crowd To Hear; 'tis Fulsome Stuff, To Please Thy Itching Ear. Survey Thy Soul, Not What Thou Does Appear, But What Thou Art.

Each Man Has His Fancy.

The Man Who Wishes To Bend Me With His Tale Of Woe Must Shed True Tears - Not Tears That Have Been Got Ready Overnight.

He Conquers Who Endures.

It Is Pleasing To Be Pointed At With The Finger And To Have It Said, "there Goes The Man." [lat., At Pulchrum Est Digito Monstrari Et Dicier His Est.]