Every Country Hath Its Machiavel.

Be Charitable Before Wealth Make Thee Covetous, And Loose Not The Glory Of The Mite.

Grave-stones Tell Truth Scarce Forty Years. Generations Pass While Families Last Not Three Oaks.

The Service Of Love Is The Foolishest Act A Wise Man Commits In All His Life, Nor Is There Anything That Will More Deject His Cool'd Imagination, When He Shall Consider What An Odd And Unworthy Piece Of Folly He Hath Committed.

Men That Look No Further Than Their Outsides, Think Health An Appurtenance Unto Life, And Quarrel With Their Constitutions For Being Sick; But I That Have Examined The Parts Of Man, And Know Upon What Tender Filaments That Fabric Hangs, Do Wonder That We Are Not Always So; And Considering The Thousand Doors That Lead To Death, Do Thank My God That We Can Die But Once.

We Censure Others But As They Disagree From That Humor Which We Fancy Laudable In Ourselves, And Commend Others But For That Wherein They Seem To Quadrate And Consent With Us.