It Is Lost At Dice, What Ancient

When Workmen Strive To Do Better Than Well, They Do Confound Their Skill In Covetousness.

Much Rain Wears The Marble.

To Think But Nobly Of My Grandmother: Good Wombs Have Borne Bad Sons.

Thank Me No Thankings, Nor Proud Me No Prouds.

He Wears His Faith But As The Fashion Of His Hat.