I Bend But Do Not Break.

A Mountain In Labour Shouted So Loud That Everyone, Summoned By The Noise, Ran Up Expecting That She Would Be Delivered Of A City Bigger Than Paris; She Brought Forth A Mouse.

The Fastidious Are Unfortunate; Nothing Satisfies Them.

It Is Good To Be Charitable; But To Whom? That Is The Point. As To The Ungrateful, There Is Not One Who Does Not At Last Die Miserable.

We Ought To Consider The End In Everything.

One Should Stick To The Sort Of Thing For Which One Was Made; I Tried To Be An Herbalist, Whereas I Should Keep To The Butchers Trade.