The Man Who Does Ill, Ill Must

The Act Of Evil Breeds Others To Follow, Young Sins In Its Own Likeness.

A Man Dies Not For The Many Wounds That Pierce His Breast, Unless It Be That Life's End Keep Pace With Death, Nor By Sitting On His Hearth At Home Doth He The More Escape His Appointed Doom.

It Is Easy When We Are In Prosperity To Give Advice To The Afflicted.

If You Pour Oil And Vinegar Into The Same Vessel, You Would Call Them Not Friends But Opponents.

For In The Voyage Of The Heart, There Is A Freight Of Hatred, And The Wind Of Wrath Blows Shrill.