It Is Quite A Common And Vulgar

Few And Signally Blessed Are Those Whom Jupiter Has Destined To Be Cabbage-planters. For They've Always One Foot On The Ground Andthe Other Not Far From It. Anyone Is Welcome To Argue About Felicity And Supreme Happiness. But The Man Who Plants Cabbages I Now Positively Declare To Be The Happiest Of Mortals.

I Never Drink Without A Thirst, Either Present Or Future.

I Know Of A Charm By Way Of A Prayer That Will Preserve A Man From The Violence Of Guns And All Manner Of Fire-weapons And Engines But It Will Do Me No Good Because I Do Not Believe It

But Where Are The Snows Of Last Year? That Was The Greatest Concern Of Villon, The Parisian Poet.

Remove Idleness From The World And Soon The Arts Of Cupid Would Perish.