Whom God Loves, His House Is Sweet

The Poet May Say Or Sing, Not As Things Were, But As They Ought To Have Been; But The Historian Must Pen Them, Not As They Ought To Have Been, But As They Really Were.

There Is No Greater Folly In The World Than For A Man To Despair.

There's No Taking Trout With Dry Breeches.

Tis Ill Talking Of Halters In The House Of A Man That Was Hanged.

Valor Lies Just Halfway Between Rashness And Cowardice.