There Is No Love Lost Between Us.

Leap Out Of The Frying Pan Into The Fire.

Get Out Of Harms Way.

Good Wits Jump; A Word To The Wise Is Enough.

It Is One Thing To Write As Poet And Another To Write As A Historian: The Poet Can Recount Or Sing About Things Not As They Were, But As They Should Have Been, And The Historian Must Write About Them Not As They Should Have Been, But As They Were, Without Adding Or Subtracting Anything From The Truth.

And Thus Being Totally Preoccupied, He Rode So Slowly That The Sun Was Soon Glowing With Such Intense Heat That It Would Have Melted His Brains, If He'd Had Any.