A Few Honest Men Are

My Desire Is To Make What Haste I Can To Be Gone.

No One Rises So High As He Who Knows Not Whither He Is Going.

There Isn't A Tree To Hang A Man, Water To Drown A Man Nor Soil To Bury A Man

Make The Iron Hot By Striking It.

I Was By Birth A Gentleman, Living Neither In Any Considerable Height Nor Yet In Obscurity.