Hee that wipes the childs nose, kisseth the mothers cheeke.
Faire language grates not the tongue.
In a long journey straw waighs.
It is part of a poor spirit to undervalue himself and blush.
To a fair day open the window, but make you ready as to a foule.
Take all that is given whether wealth, love or language, nothing comes by mistake and with good digestion all can be turned to health.