It Is But Shaping The Bribe To

We All Know By Theory That There Is No Permanent Happiness In This Life: But The Weight Of The Precept Is Not Felt In The Same Manner As When It Is Confirmed To Us By A Heavy Calamity.

Sorrow Makes An Ugly Face Odious.

The Pleasures Of The Mighty Are Obtained By The Tears Of The Poor.

Would Alexander, Madman As He Was, Have Been So Much A Madman, Had It Not Been For Homer?

The Seeds Of Death Are Sown In Us When We Begin To Live, And Grow Up Till, Like Rampant Weeds, They Choak The Tender Flower Of Life.