Here lies a gentleman bold Who was so very brave He went to lengths untold, And on the brink of the grave Death had on him no hold. By the world he set small store-- He frightened it to the core-- Yet somehow, by Fate's plan, Though he'd lived a crazy man, When he died he was sane once more.

In short, virtue cannot live where envy reigns, nor liberality subsist with niggardliness.

Wit and humor belong to genius alone.

There is no remembrance which time does not obliterate, nor pain which death does not terminate.

God who sends the wound sends the medicine.

A blot in thy escutcheon to all futurity.

For hope is always born at the same time as love.