What A Seaof Melting Ice I Walk

I Have Play'd The Fool, The Gross Fool, To Believe The Bosom Of A Friend Will Hold A Secret Mine Own Could Not Contain.

You May Boldly Say, You Did Not Plough Or Trust The Barren And Ungrateful Sands With The Fruitful Grain Of Your Religious Counsels.

Death Hath A Thousand Doors To Let Out Life.

He That Doth Public Good For Multitudes, Finds Few Are Truly Grateful

A Willing Mind Makes A Hard Journey Easy.