Who will make a doore of gold must knock a naile every day.
'It's this accursed Science,' I cried. 'It's the very Devil. The mediaeval priests and persecutors were right, and the Moderns are all wrong. You tamper with it-and it offers you gifts. And directly you take them it knocks you to pieces in some unexpected way.'
Night is the mother of counsels.
Every man's censure is first moulded in his own nature.
There come nought out of the sacke but what was there.
A bad workman quarrels with his tools.