The First Requisite To Happiness Is That

Cleverness Is Not Wisdom. And Not To Think Mortal Thoughts Is To See Few Days.

The Mob Gets Out Of Hand, Runs Wild, Worse Than Raging Fire, While The Man Who Stands Apart Is Called A Coward.

A Slave Is He Who Cannot Speak His Thoughts.

Again, A Smooth Answer, Signifying Nothing.

Wine Is A Terrible Foe, Hard To Wrestle With.