God Who Gives The Wound Gives The

My Memory Is So Bad That Many Times I Forget My Own Name.

Many Count Their Chickens Before They Are Hatched; And Where They Expect Bacon, Meet With Broken Bones.

Many Go Out For Wool, And Come Home Shorn Themselves.

Thank You For Nothing.

Is It Possible Your Pragmatical Worship Should Not Know That The Comparisons Made Between Wit And Wit, Courage And Courage, Beauty And Beauty, Birth And Birth, Are Always Odious And Ill Taken?.