In Women Everything Is Heart, Even The

What Cicero Said Of Men-that They Are Like Wines, Age Souring The Bad, And Bettering The Good-we Can Say Of Misfortune, That It Has The Same Effect Upon Them.

Without God There Is For Mankind No Purpose, No Goal, No Hope, Only A Wavering Future, An Eternal Dread Of Every Darkness.

Every Man Regards His Own Life As The New Year's Eve Of Time.

Art Is Indeed Not The Bread But The Wine Of Life.

The Burden Of Suffering Seems A Tombstone Hung About Our Necks, While In Reality It Is Only The Weight Which Is Necessary To Keep Down The Diver While He Is Hunting For Pearls.