Fair Words Never Hurt The Tongue.

Blood, Though It Sleep A Time, Yet Never Dies. The Gods On Murtherers Fix Revengeful Eyes.

Danger, The Spur Of All Great Minds.

Give Me A Spirit That On This Life's Rough Sea Loves T'have His Sails Filled With A Lusty Wind, Even Till His Sail-yards Tremble, His Masts Crack, And His Ship Run On Her Side So Low That She Drinks Water, And Her Keel Plows Air.

Words Writ In Waters.

Tis Immortality To Die Aspiring, As If A Man Were Taken Quick To Heaven.