Men Are Misers, And Women Prodigal, In

True Love Is The Ripe Fruit Of A Lifetime.

Void Of Freedom, What Would Virtue Be?

After His Blood, That Which A Man Can Next Give Out Of Himself Is A Tear.

It Is Admirable To Die The Victim Of One's Faith; It Is Sad To Die The Dupe Of One's Ambition.

Joy Is A Flame Which Association Alone Can Keep Alive, And Which Goes Out Unless Communicated.