The Fool Who Persists In His Folly

The Countless Gold Of A Merry Heart, The Rubies And Pearls Of A Loving Eye, The Indolent Never Can Bring To The Mart, Nor The Secret Hoard Up In His Treasury.

None But Blockheads Copy Each Other.

Where There Is Money There Is No Art.

The Man Who Pretends To Be A Modest Enquirer Into The Truth Of A Self-evident Thing Is A Knave.

Without Contraries There Is No Progression.