The Guilty Are Alarmed And

Two Things Only The People Actually Desire: Bread And Circuses.

It Is Unmistakable Madness To Live In Poverty Only To Die Rich.

The Short Bloom Of Our Brief And Narrow Life Flies Fast Away. While We Are Calling For Flowers And Wine And Women, Old Age Is Upon Us. [lat., Festinat Enim Decurrere Velox Flosculus Angustae Miseraeque Brevissima Vitae Portico; Dum Bibimus Dum Sera Unguenta Puellas Poscimus Obrepit Non Intellecta Senectus.]

It Is Not Easy For Men To Rise Whose Qualities Are Thwarted By Poverty.

Conscience, The Executioner, Shaking Her Secret Scourge.