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Johann Wolfgang von Goethe - Proverbs
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`TIS easier far a wreath to bind,
Than a good owner fort to find.
——-
I KILL`D a thousand flies overnight,
Yet was waken`d by one, as soon as twas light.
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To the mother I give;
For the daughter I live.
——-
A BREACH is every day,
By many a mortal storm`d;
Let them fall in the gaps as they may,
Yet a heap of dead is ne`er form`d.
——-
WHAT harm has thy poor mirror done, alas?
Look not so ugly, prythee, in the glass!
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