Music Is The Poor Man's Parnassus.

We Are Disgusted By Gossip; Yet It Is Of Importance To Keep The Angels In Their Proprieties.

Our Eyes Are Holden That We Cannot See Things That Stare Us In The Face, Until The Hour Arrives When The Mind Is Ripened; Then We Behold Them, And The Time When We Saw Them Not Is Like A Dream.

The Lover Of Letters Loves Power Too.

All Vigor Is Contagious.

A Fly Is As Untamable As A Hyena.