The Smell Of Profit Is

The Pupil Will Eclipse His Tutor, I Warrant.

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.]

Conscience, The Executioner, Shaking Her Secret Scourge.

Fond Man! Though All The Heroes Of Your Line Bedeck Your Halls, And Round Your Galleries Shine In Proud Display; Yet Take This Truth From Me-- Virtue Alone Is True Nobility!

Our Prayers Should Be For A Sound Mind In A Healthy Body. [lat., Orandum Est Ut Sit Mens Sana In Corpore Sano.]