Old Time The Clock-setter.

Wisely, And Slow. They Stumble That Run Fast.

I Have More Care To Stay Than Will To Go.

When I Bestride Him, I Soar, I Am A Hawk: He Trots The Air; The Earth Sings When He Touches It; The Basest Horn Of His Hoof Is More Musical Than The Pipe Of Hermes.

One Pain Is Cured By Another. Catch Some New Infection In Your Eye And The Poison Of The Old One Would Die.

I Do Desire We May Be Better Strangers.