Let Us Love Winter, For It Is

Even When I'm Railed At, I Get My Quota Of Renown.

I Keep My Friends As Misers Do Their Treasure, Because, Of All The Things Granted Us By Wisdom, None Is Greater Or Better Than Friendship.

With A Goose-quill And A Few Sheets Of Paper, I Mock Myself Of The Universe. They Say I Am The Son Of A Courtesan; It May Be So, But I Have The Heart Of A King. I Live Free, I Enjoy Myself, I Can Call Myself Happy.

Nothing, It Appears To Me, Is Of Greater Value In A Man Than The Power Of Judgment; And The Man Who Has It May Be Compared To A Chest Filled With Books, For He Is The Son Of Nature And The Father Of Art.

Let Us Love Winter, For It Is The Spring Of Genius.