Come Not Between The Dragon And His

Virtue Itself Turns Vice, Being Misapplied, And Vice Sometime By Action Dignified.

He That Hath The Steerage Of My Course, Direct My Sail.

The Language I Have Learnt These Forty Years, My Native English, Now I Must Forgo; And Now My Tongue's Use Is To Me No More Than An Unstringed Viol Or A Harp, Or Like A Cunning Instrument Cased Up Or, Being Open, Put Into His Hands That Knows No Touch To Tune The Harmony.

To Climb Steep Hills Requires A Slow Pace At First.

Put Money In Thy Purse.