Those Who Cannot Remember Clearly

Even Virtue Is An Art; And Even Its Devotees Are Divided Into Those Who Practise It And Those Who Are Merely Amateurs.

The Incurable Ills Are The Imaginary Ills.

When Art Find No Temple Open, It Takes Refuge In The Workshop.

Only Those Few People Who Practice It Believe In Goodness.

Hatred Is A Prolific Vice; Envy, A Barren Vice.