Good Counselors Lack No Clients.

For This Relief Much Thanks. 'tis Bitter Cold, And I Am Sick At Heart.

The Empty Vessel Makes The Loudest Sound.

He Was Met Even Now As Mad As The Vex'd Sea; Singing Aloud; Crown'd With Rank Fumiter And Furrow-weeds, With Bur-docks, Hemlock, Nettles, Cuckoo-flowers, Darnel, And All The Idle Weeds That Grow In Our Sustaining Corn.

But Men May Construe Things After Their Fashion, Clean From The Purpose Of The Things Themselves.

There's A Divinity That Shapes Our Ends, Rough-hew Them How We Will.