Let All Live As They Would Die.

If The Braine Sowes Not Corne, It Plants Thistles.

A City That Parlies Is Half Gotten. [a City That Parleys Is Half Gotten.]

A Morning Sunne, And A Wine-bred Child, And A Latin-bred Woman, Seldome End Well.

Grief Melts Away Like Snow In May, As If There Were No Such Cold Thing.

Love Makes A Good Eye Squint.