Memory Is The Receptacle And Sheath Of

It Is The Stain And Disgrace Of The Age To Envy Virtue, And To Be Anxious To Crush The Very Flower Of Dignity.

If You Wish To Remove Avarice You Must Remove Its Mother, Luxuries. [lat., Avaritiam Si Tollere Vultis, Mater Ejus Est Tollenda, Luxuries.]

Of All The Rewards Of Virtue, . . . The Most Splendid Is Fame, For It Is Fame Alone That Can Offer Us The Memory Of Posterity.

Nothing Is So Unpredictable As A Throw Of The Dice, And Yet Every Man Who Plays Often Will At Some Time Or Other Make A Venus-cast: Now And Then He Indeed Will Make It Twice And Even Thrice In Succession. Are We Going To Be So Feebleminded Then As To Aver That Such A Thing Happened By The Personal Intervention Of Venus Rather Than By Pure Luck?

There Is Nothing So Absurd That Some Philosopher Has Not Already Said It.