My aphorisme du jour allows me to roam widely in many directions, some of which, I hope, will be timely and instructive for Queue readers. My choice of the French aphorisme is a justifiably elitist affectation, paying homage to Montaigne, Voltaire, Bertrand Meyer, and that cohue d’elegance. The Gallic gargled r (as in Brassens) and the sublime long final syllable, if you get them right, simply drip with class compared with the slovenly sequence of English diphthongs: a-for-iz-um. We tend to treat the terms aphorism and epigram as posh synonyms for maxim, motto, or even saying. They are all characterized by an attempt to condense volumes of wisdom into short, memorable phrases suitable, say, for adorning our college crests, tombstones, or car bumpers.