Nothing Doth So Fool A Man As

Even The Best Things Ill Used Become Evils; And, Contrarily, The Worst Things Used Well Prove Good.

There Would Not Be So Many Open Mouths If There Were Not So Many Open Ears.

That Which The French Proverb Hath Of Sickness Is True Of All Evils, That They Come On Horseback, And Go Away On Foot; We Have Often Seen A Sudden Fall Or One Meal's Surfeit Hath Stuck By Many To Their Graves; Whereas Pleasures Come Like Oxen, Slow, And Heavily, And Go Away Like Post-horses, Upon The Spur.

If The Sun Of God's Countenance Shine Upon Me, I May Well Be Content To Be Wet With The Rain Of Affliction.

Heaven Hath Many Tongues To Talk Of It, More Eyes To Behold It, But Few Hearts That Rightly Affect It.