Talkers Are No Good Doers.

His Heart As Far From Fraud As Heaven From Earth.

The Gray-eyed Morn Smiles On The Frowning Night, Checkering The Eastern Clouds With Streaks Of Light.

Every True Man's Apparel Fits Your Thief.

If Thou Wilt Lend This Money, Lend It Not As To Thy Friends; For When Did Friendship Take A Breed For Barren Metal Of His Friend?

The Hand That Hath Made You Fair Hath Made You Good.