Thy Praise Or Dispraise Is To Me

All Concord's Born Of Contraries.

Our Whole Life Is Like A Play.

If You Succeed Not, Cast Not Away The Quills Yet, Nor Scratch The Wainscot, Beat Not The Poor Desk, But Bring All To The Forge And File Again; Turn It New.

Each Petty Hand Can Steer A Ship Becalm'd; But He That Will Govern And Carry Her To Her Ends, Must Know His Tides, His Currents, How To Shift His Sails; What She Will Bear In Foul, What In Fair Weathers; Where Her Springs Are, Her Leaks, And How To Stop 'em; What Strands, What Shelves, What Rocks Do Threaten Her.

Silence In Woman Is Like Speech In Man.