Those who'll play with cats must expect to be scratched.
Nay, what is worse, perhaps turn poet, which, they say, is an infectious and incurable distemper.
Man appoints, and God disappoints.
Every dog has his day.
There were no embraces, because where there is great love there is often little display of it.
The pen is the tongue of the soul; as are the thoughts engendered there, so will be the things written.