The Wind In Ones Face Makes One

If Thou Do Ill, The Joy Fades, Not The Pains. If Well, The Pain Doth Fade, The Joy Remains.

The Noise Is Greater Then The Nuts.

Hee That Would Bee Well Old, Must Bee Old Betimes.

Though You Rise Early, Yet The Day Comes At His Time, And Not Till Then.

An Oxe Is Taken By The Horns, And A Man By The Tongue.