My Tongue Swore, But My Mind Was

The Fountains Of Sacred Rivers Flow Upwards (i.e., Everything Is Turned Topsy Turvy).

It Is Better That We Live Ever So Miserably Than Die In Glory.

Everyone Asks If A Man Is Rich, No One If He Is Good.

Life Is Short; This Being So, Who Would Pursue Great Things And Not Bear With What Is At Hand? These Are The Ways Of Madmen And Men Of Evil Counsel, At Least In My Judgment.

Wealth Stays With Us A Little Moment If At All: Only Our Characters Are Steadfast, Not Our Gold.