Wisedome Hath One Foot On Land, And

Keep Good Company, And You Shall Be Of The Number.

An Ill Wound Is Cured, Not An Ill Name.

When A Knave Is In A Plumtree He Hath Neither Friend Nor Kin.

Let Thy Mind Still Be Bent, Still Plotting, Where, And When, And How Thy Business May Be Done. Slackness Breeds Worms; But The Sure Traveller, Though He Alights Sometimes Still Goeth On.

He That Will Learn To Pray, Let Him Go To Sea.