The Belly Has No Ears Nor Is

How Comes It That You Curse, Frere Jean? It's Only, Said The Monk, In Order To Embellish My Language. They Are The Colors Of Ciceronian Rhetoric.

All's Well In The End, If You've Only The Patience To Wait.

Hungry Bellies Have No Cars.

Do Not Limp Before The Lame. [old Fr., Ne Clochez Pas Devant Les Boyteus.]

I Drink For The Thirst To Come.