Flesh Of My Flesh, Bone Of My

Sin And Shame Ever Go Together; He That Would Be Freed From The Last Must Be Sure To Shun The Company Of The First.

That When We Live No More, We May Live Ever

Fire Hath Its Force Abated By Water, Not By Wind; And Anger Must Be Allayed By Cold Words, And Not By Blustering Threats.

Art Can Do Much, But This Maxim's Most Sure/a Weak Or Wounded Brain Admits No Cure.

My Hope And Treasure Lies Above