All Griefes With Bread Are Lesse.

We Must Recoile A Little, To The End We May Leap The Better.

None Is So Wise, But The Foole Overtakes Him.

Hee Wrongs Not An Old Man That Steales His Supper From Him.

A Caske And An Ill Custome Must Be Broken.

Gold Opens All Locks, No Lock Will Hold Against The Power Of Gold.