If The Staffe Be Crooked, The Shadow

In Solitude, Be A Multitude To Thyself. Tibullus By All Means Use Sometimes To Be Alone.

The Tree That God Plants, No Winde Hurts It.

A Snow Yeare, A Rich Yeare.

All Are Presumed Good Till They Are Found At Fault.

Vertue Flies From The Heart Of A Mercenary Man.