He Who Wishes To Become Rich Wishes

The Smell Of Money Is Good, Come Whence It May. [alluding To Vespasian's Tax On Ordure.]

One Man Meets An Infamous Punishment For That Crime Which Confers A Diadem On Others.

Nature Confesses That She Has Bestowed On The Human Race Hearts Of Softest Mould, In That She Has Given Us Tears.

Dedicate One's Life To Truth.

Travelers With Naught Sing In The Robber's Face