Delay Always Heeds Danger.

I Had Rather Munch A Crust Of Brown Bread And An Onion In A Corner, Without Any More Ado Or Ceremony, Than Feed Upon Turkey At Another Man?s Table, Where One Is Fain To Sit Mincing And Chewing His Meat An Hour Together, Drink Little, Be Always Wiping His Fingers And His Chops, And Never Dare To Cough Nor Sneeze, Though He Has Never So Much A Mind To It, Nor Do A Many Things Which A Body May Do Freely By One?s Self.

I Never Thrust My Nose Into Other Men's Porridge. It Is No Bread And Butter Of Mine; Every Man For Himself, And God For Us All.

Jests That Give Pains Are No Jests.

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.

The Man Who Is Prepared Has His Battle Half Fought.