Tis said that wrath is the last thing in a man to grow old.
Wine is a peep-hole on a man.
Not houses finely roofed or the stones of walls well builded, nay nor canals and dockyards make the city, but men able to use their opportunity.
Fighting men are the city's fortress.
Not well-built walls, but brave citizens are the bulwark of the city.
One that hath wine as a chain about his wits, such a one lives no life at all.