O Mortal Men, Be Wary Of How

The Devil Is Not As Black As He Is Painted.

Be As A Tower Firmly Set; Shakes Not Its Top For Any Blast That Blows.

O Faithful Conscience, Delicately Pure, How Doth A Little Failing Wound Thee Sore!

The Well Heeded Well Heard.

Fate's Arrow, When Expected, Travels Slow.