We must beat the iron while it is hot, but we may polish it at leisure.
Whistling to keep myself from being afraid.
Old age creeps on us ere we think it nigh.
Ye moon and stars, bear witness to the truth.
Raw in the fields the rude militia swarms, Mouth without hands; maintained at vast expense, In peace a charge, in war a weak defence.
Truth is the foundation of all knowledge and the cement of all societies.