If the head is lost, all that perishes is the individual; if the balls are lost, all of human nature perishes.
Francois RabelaisParisians are so besotted, so silly and so naturally inept that a street player, a seller of indulgences, a mule with its cymbals,a fiddler in the middle of a crossroads, will draw more people than would a good Evangelist preacher.
Francois Rabelais