The Act Of God Injures No One.

The Tongue Is The Worst Part Of A Bad Servant.

Of What Use Are Pedigrees, Or To Be Thought Of Noble Blood, Or The Display Of Family Portraits, O Ponticus?

To Gain A Livelihood At The Expense Of All That Makes Life Worth The Having.

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

The Noiseless Foot Of Tune Steals Swiftly By And Ere We Dream Of Manhood, Age Is Nigh.