Rarely They Rise By Virtue's Aid Who

Trust To A Plank, Draw Precarious Breath, At Most Seven Inches From The Jaws Of Death.

An Excess Of Hoarded Wealth Is The Death Of Many.

The Short Bloom Of Our Brief And Narrow Life Flies Fast Away. While We Are Calling For Flowers And Wine And Women, Old Age Is Upon Us. [lat., Festinat Enim Decurrere Velox Flosculus Angustae Miseraeque Brevissima Vitae Portico; Dum Bibimus Dum Sera Unguenta Puellas Poscimus Obrepit Non Intellecta Senectus.]

Fortune Can, For Her Pleasure, Fools Advance, And Toss Them On The Wheels Of Chance.

All Wish To Be Learned, But No One Is Willing To Pay The Price.