Learn taciturnity and let that be your motto!
Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure Thrill the deepest notes of woe.
A mind that is conscious of its integrity scorns to say more than it means to perform.
The fear o' hell's a hangman's whip To haud the wretch in order; But where ye feel your honour grip, Let that aye be your border.
If there 's a hole in a' your coats, I rede ye tent it; A chiel 's amang ye takin' notes, And, faith, he 'll prent it.
Their sighing, canting, grace-proud faces, their three-mile prayers, and half-mile graces.