The Variety Of All Things Forms A

Alas, How Right The Ancient Saying Is: We, Who Are Old, Are Nothing Else But Noise And Shape. Like Mimicries Of Dreams We Go, And Have No Wits, Although We Think Us Wise.

Love Distills Desire Upon The Eyes, Love Brings Bewitching Grace Into The Heart.

What We Look For Does Not Come To Pass; God Finds A Way For What None Foresaw.

Time Will Explain It All. He Is A Talker, And Needs No Questioning Before He Speaks.

Do Not Consider Painful What Is Good For You.