Tis the only discipline we are born for; all studies else are but as circular lines, and death the center where they all must meet.

The over curious are not over wise.

Patience, the beggar's virtue, shall find no harbor here.

Ill news are swallow-winged, but what is good walks on crutches.

He that doth public good for multitudes, finds few are truly grateful

Petitions, not sweetened with gold, are but unsavory and oft refused; or, if received, are pocketed, not read.

Revenge, that thirsty dropsy of our souls, makes us covet that which hurts us most.