Those Things Please More, Which Are More

No One Rejoices More In Revenge Than Woman.

The Brief Span Of Our Poor Unhappy Life To Its Final Hour Is Hastening On; And While We Drink And Call For Gay Wreaths, Perfumes, And Young Girls, Old Age Creeps Upon Us, Unperceived.

Now We Suffer The Evils Of A Long Peace; Luxury More Cruel Than War Broods Over Us And Avenges A Conquered World.

The Act Of God Injures No One.

Nothing Is More Intolerable Than A Wealthy Woman.