To Whom You Betray Your Secret You

I Have Thought That Wild Flowers Might Be The Alphabet Of Angels, — Whereby They Write On Hills And Fields Mysterious Truths, Which It Is Not Given Our Fallen Nature To Understand.

Make Yourself Sheep And The Wolves Will Eat You.

Be Not Disturbed At Trifles, Or At Accidents Common Or Unavoidable.

The Rotten Apple Spoils His Companion.

The Only Certain Things In Life Are Death And Taxes!