No Sane Man Will Dance.

No Grief Is So Acute But Time Ameliorates It.

Endless Money Forms The Sinews Of War. [lat., Nervi Belli Pecunia Infinita.]

Yield, Ye Arms, To The Toga; To Civic Praise, Ye Laurels.

I Do Not Understand What The Man Who Is Happy Wants In Order To Be Happier.

Not To Know What Happened Before You Were Born Is To Be A Child Forever. For What Is The Time Of A Man, Except It Be Interwoven With That Memory Of Ancient Things Of A Superior Age?