Arms Are My Ornaments, Warfare My Repose.

Inasmuch As Ill-deeds Spring Up As A Spontaneous Crop, They Are Easy To Learn.

We Ought To Love Our Maker For His Own Sake, Without Either Hope Of Good Or Fear Of Pain.

Comparisons Are Odious.

Fear Has Many Eyes And Can See Things Underground.

A Stout Heart Breaks Bad Luck.