All Arts His Own, The

The Same Dish Cooked Over And Over Again Wears Out The Irksome Life Of The Teacher.

The Grape Gains Its Purple Tinge By Looking At Another Grape. [lat., Uvaque Conspecta Livorem Ducit Ab Uva.]

Trust Me No Tortures Which The Poets Feign Can Match The Fierce Unutterable Pain He Feels, Who Night And Day Devoid Of Rest Carries His Own Accuser In His Breast.

The Face, Not The Woman Is The Attraction.

Pleasures Are Enhanced By A Moderate Indulgence.