Hee That Bewailes Himselfe Hath The Cure

Be Not Too Presumptuously Sure In Any Business; For Things Of This World Depend On Such A Train Of Unseen Chances That If It Were In Man's Hands To Set The Tables, Still He Would Not Be Certain To Win The Game.

Praise None Too Much, For All Are Fickle.

Faire Is Not Faire, But That Which Pleaseth.

Mend Your Clothes And You May Hold Out This Year.

Let Anger's Fire Be Slow To Burn.