Be Not Disturbed At Trifles, Or At

I Have Thought That Wild Flowers Might Be The Alphabet Of Angels, — Whereby They Write On Hills And Fields Mysterious Truths, Which It Is Not Given Our Fallen Nature To Understand.

He That Speaks Ill Of The Mare Will Buy Her.

The Good Or Ill Hap Of A Good Or Ill Life, Is The Good Or Ill Choice Of A Good Or Ill Wife.

Little Rogues Easily Become Great Ones.

Don't Halloo Until You're Out Of The Wood.