There's Nothing That Allays An Angry Mind

Our Lives Are But Our Marches To The Grave.

Envy, Like The Worm, Never Runs But To The Fairest Fruit; Like A Cunning Bloodhound, It Singles Out The Fattest Deer In The Flock.

Oh, Love Will Make A Dog Howl In Rhyme.

Who Doubting Tyranny, And Fainting Under Fortune's False Lottery, Desperately Run To Death, For Dread Of Death; That Soul's Most Stout, That, Bearing All Mischance, Dares Last It Out.

If Men Wound You With Injuries, Meet Them With Patience; Hasty Words Rankle The Wound, Soft Language Dresses It, Forgiveness Cures It, And Oblivion Takes Away The Scar. It Is More Noble By Silence To Avoid An Injury Than By Argument To Overcome It.