Forgive, Son; Men Are Men;

What Is God, What Is Not God, What Is Between Man And God, Who Shall Say?

Of Mortals There Is No One Who Is Happy. If Wealth Flows In Upon One, One May Be Perhaps Luckier Than One's Neighbor, But Still Not Happy.

Who Cannot Open An Honest Mind No Friend Will He Be Of Mine.

That Mortal Is A Fool Who, Prospering, Thinks His Life Has Any Strong Foundation; Since Our Fortune's Course Of Action Is The Reeling Way A Madman Takes, And No One Person Is Ever Happy All The Time.

Wealth Stays With Us A Little Moment If At All: Only Our Characters Are Steadfast, Not Our Gold.