Wine Is A Peep-hole On

Fighting Men Are The City's Fortress.

Not Houses Finely Roofed Or The Stones Of Walls Well Builded, Nay Nor Canals And Dockyards Make The City, But Men Able To Use Their Opportunity.

Plant No Tree Sooner Than The Vine.

To Be Bowed By Grief Is Folly; Naught Is Gained By Melancholy; Better Than The Pain Of Thinking, Is To Steep The Sense In Drinking.

Wine Is A Peep-hole On A Man.