A Blot In Thy Escutcheon To All

They Must Needs Go Whom The Devil Drives.

Nor Has His Death The World Deceiv'd Than His Wondrous Life Surprise D; If He Like A Madman Liv'd Least He Like A Wise One Dy'd.

We Ought To Love Our Maker For His Own Sake, Without Either Hope Of Good Or Fear Of Pain.

Sancho Panza By Name Is My Own Self, If I Was Not Changed In My Cradle.

God Exalts The Man Who Humbles Himself.