“Not well-built walls, but brave citizens are the bulwark of the city.”

Plant no tree sooner than the vine.

Tis said that wrath is the last thing in a man to grow old.

Wine is a peep-hole on a man.

One that hath wine as a chain about his wits, such a one lives no life at all.

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.

Brave men are a city’s strongest tower of defence.

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.