Sit Mens Sana In Corpore Sano (a

Poverty Is Bitter, But It Has No Harder Pang Than That It Makes Men Ridiculous.

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

So Much Greater Is Our Thirst For Glory Than For Virtue.

Men Who Only Live To Eat.

An Undying Hatred, And A Wound Never To Be Healed.