The Whims Of Youth Break All The

And What He Greatly Thought, He Nobly Dared.

Bad Herdsmen Waste The Flocks Which Thou Hast Left Behind.

Hateful To Me As Are The Gates Of Hell, Is He Who, Hiding One Thing In His Heart, Utters Another.

From His Tongue Flowed Speech Sweeter Than Honey.

Too Many Kings Can Ruin An Army