Ill Natures, The More You Aske Them,

That From Small Fires Comes Oft No Small Mishap.

For Washing His Hands, None Sels His Lands.

Surely If Each One Saw Another's Heart, There Would Be No Commerce, No Sale Or Bargain Pass: All Would Disperse And Live Apart.

Promising Is The Eve Of Giving.

I Was Taken By A Morsell, Saies The Fish. [i Was Taken By A Morsel, Says The Fish.]