Wisedome Hath One Foot On Land, And

No Hair So Small But Hath His Shadow.

Of The Smells, Bread; Of The Tastes, Salt.

Fooles Give To Please All But Their Owne.

He Pares His Apple That Will Cleanly Feed.

When All Men Have What Belongs To Them, It Cannot Bee Much. [when All Men Have What Belongs To Them, It Cannot Be Much.]