All Paths Lead To A Phrase Or A Saying Poem by Mark Heathcote

Where there's muck there's brass
You bet your arse!
Verbosity leads to unclear, inarticulate things
Tilting at windmills
There are many irritating sayings
Old as the hills
Men's evil manners live in brass; their virtues, we write in water
Like ‘lambs to the slaughter
Every man for himself and the devil, take the hindmost
Now is the winter of our discontent
Pipped at the post
No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.
The fat of the land
A house divided against itself cannot stand
Off with his head
Waiting with bated breath
A fate worse than death
The quick and the dead
Every cloud has a silver lining
Chance would be a fine thing.
Pennies from heaven
How the mighty have fallen?
Let me begin again
It all started when
The elephant in the room
April fool
Beyond our ken
Best-laid schemes of mice and men
As black as Newgate's knocker
As cool as a cucumber
Snug as a bug in a rug
Became that first-ever stick in the mud.