The Belly Is The Giver Of Genius.

Things Fit Only To Give Weight To Smoke.

But When To-morrow Comes, Yesterday's Morrow Will Have Been Already Spent: And Lo! A Fresh Morrow Will Be For Ever Making Away With Our Years, Each Just Beyond Our Grasp.

Thou Art Moist And Soft Clay; Thou Must Instantly Be Shaped By The Glowing Wheel. [lat., Udum Et Molle Lutum Es: Nunc, Nunc Properandus Et Acri Fingendus Sine Fine Rota.]

Your Knowing A Thing Is Nothing, Unless Another Knows You Know It.

Quantum Est In Rebus Inane! How Much Folly There Is In Human Affairs.