He That Speaks Ill Of The Mare

You May Give Give A Man Office, But You Cannot Give Him Discretion

Death Is A Fisherman, The World We See His Fish-pond Is, And We The Fishes Be; His Net Some General Sickness; Howe'er He Is Not So Kind As Other Fishers Be; For If They Take One Of The Smaller Fry, They Throw Him In Again, He Shall Not Die: But Death Is Sure To Kill All He Can Get, And All Is Fish With Him That Comes To Net.

Pen, Wax And Parchment Govern The World.

Women And Wine, Game And Deceit, Make The Wealth Small, And The Want Great

Do You Love Life? Then Don't Waste Time, Because Time Is Life!