Whatever Is Not Forbidden Is Permitted.

The Storm Is Master. Man, As A Ball, Is Tossed Twixt Winds And Billows.

There Are Evil Spirits Who Suddenly Fix Their Abode In Man's Unguarded Breast, Causing Us To Commit Devilish Deeds, And Then, Hurrying Back To Their Native Hell, Leave Behind The Stings Of Remorse In The Poisoned Bosom.

What The Inner Voice Says Will Not Disappoint The Hoping Soul.

If We Do Not Find Anything Very Pleasant, At Least We Shall Find Something New.

Heaven And Earth Fight In Vain Against A Dunce!