The Love Of Money Grows

Nothing Is So Intolerable As A Woman With A Long Purse.

Rare Is The Union Of Beauty And Purity.

I Will It, I Order It, Let My Will Stand For A Reason.

Every Fault Of The Mind Becomes More Conspicuous And More Guilty In Proportion To The Rank Of The Offender

The Smell Of Money Is Good, Come Whence It May. [alluding To Vespasian's Tax On Ordure.]