The Wind In Ones Face Makes One

To Weepe For Joy Is A Kinde Of Manna.

We Live In An Age That Hath More Need Of Good Example Than Precepts.

Who Shuts His Hand Has Lost His Gold, Who Opens It Hath It Twice Told.

A Little Given Seasonably Excuses A Great Gift.

No Sooner Is A Temple Built To God But The Devill Builds A Chappell Hard By.