They Must Needs Go Whom The Devil

My Thoughts Ran A Wool-gathering.

You Are A King By Your Own Fireside, As Much As Any Monarch In His Throne.

Spare Your Breath To Cool Your Porridge.

That One Man Scorned And Covered With Scars Still Strove With His Last Ounce Of Courage To Reach The Unreachable Star.

Laws That Only Threaten, And Are Not Kept, Become Like The Log That Was Given To The Frogs To Be Their King, Which They Feared At First, But Soon Scorned And Trampled On.