Hee that wipes the childs nose, kisseth the mothers cheeke.
All things have their place, knew wee how to place them.
Church bells beyond the stars heard, the soul's blood, The land of spices; something understood.
Bells call others, but themselves enter not into the Church.
When you enter into a house, leave the anger ever at the doore.
You cannot make the fire so low but it will get out.