No man can lose what he never had.
Old-fashioned poetry, but choicely good.
I have laid aside business, and gone a-fishing.
God has two dwellings; one in heaven, and the other in a meek and thankful heart.
This dish of meat is too good for any but anglers, or very honest men.
Wise men ne'er sit and wail their loss,But cheerly seek how to redress their harms.
A wise man loses nothing, if he but save himself.
Beaten paths are for beaten men.
Things that are not at all, are never lost.
Our wasted oil unprofitably burns,Like hidden lamps in old sepulchral urns.
That puts it not unto the touchTo win or lose it all.
Losers must have leave to speak.
But over all things brooding sleptThe quiet sense of something lost.
What's saved affordsNo indication of what's lost.
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