Having Mourned Your Sin, For

It Is A Madness To Make Fortune The Mistress Of Events, Because In Herself She Is Nothing, Can Rule Nothing, But Is Ruled By Prudence.

They Think Too Little Who Talk Too Much.

He Who Trusts A Secret To His Servant Makes His Own Man His Master.

Those Who Write Ill, And They Who Ne'er Durst Write, Turn Critics Out Of Mere Revenge And Spite.

Words Are But Pictures Of Our Thoughts.