Night is the mother of Councels.

Night is the mother of Councels.

We are slow to believe that which, if true, would grieve us.

We are slow to believe that which, if true, would grieve us.

All is grist that comes to the mill.

All is grist that comes to the mill.

He that sings on friday, will weepe on Sunday.

He that sings on friday, will weepe on Sunday.

The Divell never assailes a man, except he find him either void
of knowledge, or of the fear of read more

The Divell never assailes a man, except he find him either void
of knowledge, or of the fear of God.

An old mans staffe is the rapper of deaths doore.

An old mans staffe is the rapper of deaths doore.

But that old man, who is lord of the broad estate and the hall,
Dropped off gorged from a read more

But that old man, who is lord of the broad estate and the hall,
Dropped off gorged from a scheme which left us flaccid and
drained.

With devotion's visage,
And pious action, we do sugar o'er
The devil himself.

With devotion's visage,
And pious action, we do sugar o'er
The devil himself.

Take time: much may be gained by patience.

Take time: much may be gained by patience.