I Urge You To Spend

A Bellyful Is A Bellyful.

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

If You Say To Me: "master, It Would Seem That You Weren't Too Terribly Wise To Have Written These Bits Of Nonsense And Pleasant Mockeries," I Respond That You Are Hardly More So In Finding Amusement In Reading Them.

Indeed, Said The Monk, A Mass, A Matins, And Vespers Well Rung Are Half-said.

It Is The Custom On Africa To Always Produce New And Monstrous Things. [fr., Afrique Est Coustumiere Toujours Choses Produire Nouvelles Et Monstrueuses.]