Hope Is A Working-man's Dream.

The World, And Whatever That Be Which We Call The Heavens, By The Vault Of Which All Things Are Enclosed, We Must Conceive To Be A Deity, To Be Eternal, Without Bounds, Neither Created Nor Subject At Any Time To Destruction. To Inquire What Is Beyond It Is No Concern Of Man; Nor Can The Human Mind Form Any Conjecture Concerning It.

No Man's Abilities Are So Remarkably Shining As Not To Stand In Need Of A Proper Opportunity.

Chance Is A Second Master.

As For The Garden Of Mint, The Very Smell Of It Alone Recovers And Refreshes Our Spirits, As The Taste Stirs Up Our Appetite For Meat.

The Best Plan Is To Profit By The Folly Of Others.