A Litle Wind Kindles; Much Puts Out

The Tongue Is Not Steele, Yet It Cuts. [the Tongue Is Not Steel Yet It Cuts.]

Some Men Plant An Opinion They Seem To Erradicate.

The Ill That Comes Out Of Our Mouth Falles Into Our Bosome.

The First Blow Is As Much As Two.

Throw Away Thy Rod, Throw Away Thy Wrath; O My God, Take The Gentle Path.