To Be Bowed By Grief Is Folly;

Fighting Men Are The City's Fortress.

Not Houses Finely Roofed Or The Stones Of Walls Well Builded, Nay Nor Canals And Dockyards Make The City, But Men Able To Use Their Opportunity.

One That Hath Wine As A Chain About His Wits, Such A One Lives No Life At All.

Not Well-built Walls, But Brave Citizens Are The Bulwark Of The City.

Tis Said That Wrath Is The Last Thing In A Man To Grow Old.