Those Things Please More, Which Are More

Fortune Can, For Her Pleasure, Fools Advance, And Toss Them On The Wheels Of Chance.

For Women's Tears Are But The Sweat Of Eyes.

The Smell Of Profit Is Clean And Sweet, Whatever The Source.

O Poverty, Thy Thousand Ills Combined Sink Not So Deep Into The Generous Mind, As The Contempt And Laughter Of Mankind.

So Much Greater Is Our Thirst For Glory Than For Virtue.