Let Them (the Wicked) See The Beauty

Retire Within Thyself, And Thou Will Discover How Small A Stock Is There. [lat., Tecum Habita, Et Noris Quam Sit Tibi Curta Supellex.]

The Belly Is The Giver Of Genius.

We Consume Our Tomorrows Fretting About Our Yesterdays.

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.

Bad Advice Is Often Most Fatal To The Adviser.