To Mingle Friendship Far Is Mingling Bloods.

Our Enemies Are Our Outward Consciences.

Silence Is Only Commendable In A Neat's Tongue Dried, And A Maid Not Vendible.

The Ostentation Of Our Love, Which, Left Unshown, Is Often Left Unloved.

It Will Have Blood, They Say; Blood Will Have Blood.

He That Is Giddy Thinks The World Turns Round.