One That Hath Wine As A Chain

To Be Bowed By Grief Is Folly; Naught Is Gained By Melancholy; Better Than The Pain Of Thinking, Is To Steep The Sense In Drinking.

Not Houses Finely Roofed Or The Stones Of Walls Well Builded, Nay Nor Canals And Dockyards Make The City, But Men Able To Use Their Opportunity.

Not Well-built Walls, But Brave Citizens Are The Bulwark Of The City.

Tis Said That Wrath Is The Last Thing In A Man To Grow Old.

Fighting Men Are The City's Fortress.