Discomfort Guides My Tongue And Bids Me

It Is A Wise Father That Knows His Own Child.

Love Goes Toward Love.

This Fellow Pecks Up Wit, As Pigeons Peas; And Utters It Again When God Doth Please: He Is Wit's Pedler; And Retails His Wares.

To Climb Steep Hills Requires A Slow Pace At First.

Wolves And Bears, They Say, Casting Their Savagery Aside, Have Done Like Offices Of Pity.