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’Tis too late to spare when all is spent; One Swallow does not make Summer.
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When the Steed’s stolen, shut the Stable Door.
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After sweet Meat comes sour Sauce; [woodcut of stout man, seated, with bandaged foot]
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A Shoemaker must not go beyond his Last
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The Traceys have always the Wind in their Faces; To cut large Thongs out of another Man’s Leather; Too much of one Thing is good for nothing
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One good Turn deserves another; He steals a Goose, and gives the Giblets in Alms.
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An old Dog will learn no Tricks; If you trust before you try, You may repent before you die.
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Nothing venture, nothing have; Virtue which parleys is near a Surrender.
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Well begun is half ended; All is well that ends well.
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Many Words will not fill a Bushel; The younger Brother the better Gentleman.
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One scabbed Sheep marrs a whole Flock; Tread on a Worm and it will turn.
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Brag is a good Dog, but Holdfast is a better; The Belly has no Ears; [woodcut: mouse by house perhaps made from candle with snuffer]
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