On the Magnitude of Trifles

   From trivial things great contests oft arise.
  
  
   
   
   Happy and wise is the man to whose thought existeth not a 
     trifle.
   
  
  
   
   In conduct don't make trifles of trifles.
   The mass of trifles makes magnitude.




   Despise not a small wound, a poor kinsman, or a humble enemy.




   True delicacy, that heartleaf of humanity, exhibits itself most 
     significantly in little things.
   


    
   White ants pick a carcass clean sooner than a lion will.




   A little each day is much in a year. 




   Your clock within one twelvemonth ticketh thirty million 
     seconds,
   By steadily, without a stop, fulfilling small details.




   Hair by hair makes the head bare.




   Little and often makes a heap in time.




   Little strokes fell great oaks.




   Step by step one goes far.