All Flesh Is Not Venison.

The Sundaies Of Man's Life, Thredded Together On Time's String, Make Bracelets To Adorn The Wife Of The Eternal, Glorious King. On Sunday Heaven's Gates Stand Ope; Blessings Are Plentiful And Rife. More Plentiful Than Hope.

It's A Proud Horse That Will Not Carry His Owne Provender.

All Things In Their Beeing Are Good For Something.

Health And Mony Goe Farre. [health And Money Go Far.]

Hee Looseth Nothing, That Looseth Not God.