The Spirit Of A Youth That Means

Silence Is Only Commendable In A Neat's Tongue Dried, And A Maid Not Vendible.

Let Not Our Babbling Dreams Affright Our Souls; Conscience Is But A Work That Cowards Use, Devised At First To Keep The Strong In Awe: Our Strong Arms Be Our Conscience, Swords Our Law!

The Patient Must Minister To Himself

When Remedies Are Past, The Griefs Are Ended By Seeing The Worst, Which Late On Hopes Depended.

There Is Throats To Be Cut, And Works To Be Done.