The Act Of Evil Breeds Others To

It Is An Ill Thing To Be The First To Bring News Of Ill.

Yet Though A Man Gets Many Wounds In Breast, He Dieth Not, Unless The Appointed Time, The Limit Of His Life's Span, Coincide; Nor Does The Man Who By The Hearth At Home Sits Still, Escape The Doom That Fate Decrees.

The Reward Of Pain Is Experience.

Don't You Know This, That Words Are Doctors To A Diseased Temperment?

Bonds And The Pangs Of Hunger Are Excellent Prophet Doctors For The Wits.