All The Wise World Is

Mischiefs Feed / Like Beasts, Till They Be Fat, And Then They Bleed.

Language Most Shows A Man; Speak That I May See Thee; It Springs Out Of The Most Retired And Inmost Parts Of Us, And Is The Image Of The Parent Of It, The Mind. No Glass Renders A Man's Form Or Likeness So True As His Speech.

True Gladness Doth Not Always Speak; Joy, Bred And Born But In The Tongue, Is Weak.

Chance Will Not Do The Work. Chance Sends The Breeze; But If The Pilot Slumber At The Helm, The Very Wind That Wafts Us Tow'rds The Port May Dash Us On The Shoals. The Steersman's Part Is Vigilance, Or Blow It Rough Or Smooth.

... The Best Pilots Have Need Of Mariners, Besides Sails, Anchor And Other Tackle.