If Poverty Is The Mother Of All

We Hope To Grow Old And We Dread Old Age; That Is To Say, We Love Life And We Flee From Death.

It Is Easier To Enrich Ourselves With A Thousand Virtues, Than To Correct Ourselves Of A Single Fault.

The Doctors Allow One To Die, The Charlatans Kill.

A Well-born Man Is Fortunate, But So Is The Man About Whom People No Longer Ask, 'is He Well-born?'

No Road Is To Long For Him Who Advances Slowly And Does Not Hurry And No Attainment Is Beyond His Reach Who Equips Himself With Patience To Achieve It