The Loss Of Wealth Is Loss Of

When All Candles Are Out, All Cats Are Grey, All Things Are Then Of One Color, As Who Say. And This Proverb Faith, For Quenching Hot Desire, Foul Water As Soon As Faire, Will Quench Hot Fire.

What Heart Can Think, Or Tongue Express, The Harm That Groweth Of Idleness?

One Swallow Maketh Not Summer.

It Is A Foul Bird That Filleth His Own Nest.

Small Pitchers Have Wyde Eares.