No One Sees What Is

Death Darkens His Eyes, And Unplumes His Wings, Yet The Sweetest Song Is The Last He Sings: Live So, My Love, That When Death Shall Come, Swan-like And Sweet It May Waft Thee Home.

If You Wish To Remove Avarice You Must Remove Its Mother, Luxuries. [lat., Avaritiam Si Tollere Vultis, Mater Ejus Est Tollenda, Luxuries.]

Sed Nescio Quo Modo Nihil Tam Absurde Dici Potest Quod Non Dicatur Ab Aliquo Philosphorum. (there Is Nothing So Absurd But Some Philosopher Has Said It.)

Rather Leave The Crime Of The Guilty Unpunished Than Condemn The Innocent.

Let Our Friends Perish, Provided That Our Enemies Fall At The Same Time.