Justice Is The Soul Of The Universe.

This Body Is A Tent Which For A Space Does The Pure Soul With Kingly Presence Grace; When He Departs, Comes The Tent-pitcher, Death, Strikes It, And Moves To A New Halting-place.

Better Be Jocund With The Fruitful Grape Than Sadden After None, Or Bitter, Fruit.

The Grape That Can With Logic Absolute The Two-and-seventy Jarring Sects Confute: The Sovereign Alchemist That In A Trice Life's Leaden Metal Into Gold Transmute.

We Are Thinking About Bad Only Those Who Are Worse Than We Are, And Those Who Are Better Than Us ... I'm Just Not Up To Us ... One Does Not Follow It Than Smell Roses. Another Of The Bitter Herbs Will Produce Honey. Give Bread To One - Will Remember Forever. Another Life Donation - Do Not Understand.

Give Me A Flagon Of Red Wine, A Book Of Verses, A Loaf Of Bread, And A Little Idleness. If With Such Store I Might Sit By Thy Dear Side In Some Lonely Place, I Should Deem Myself Happier Than A King In His Kingdom.