It Is An Active Flame That Fliesfirst

It Is The End That Crowns Us, Not The Fight.

The Body Is The Soul's Poor House Or Home, Whose Ribs The Laths Are And Whose Flesh The Loam.

He Who Has Suffered Shipwreck, Fears To Sail Upon The Seas, Though With A Gentle Gale.

We Credit Most Our Sight; One Eye Doth Please Our Trust Farre More Than Ten Eare-witnesses.

Those Saints, Which God Loves Best, The Devil Tempts Not Least.