To Saints Their Very Slumber Is A

It Is Worse Still To Be Ignorant Of Your Ignorance.

Even Brute Beasts And Wandering Birds Do Not Fall Into The Same Traps Or Nets Twice.

No Athlete Is Crowned But In The Sweat Of His Brow.

My Speech Is Too Fast; My Oration Confused; Love Knows No Order.

The Tired Ox Treads With A Firmer Step.