ae mony men, sae mony minds.
"Saft beddin's gude for sair banes," quo' Howie when he streekit himsel on the midden-head.
"Saft's your horn, my friend," quo' the man when he grippit the cuddy's lug.
"Sail," quo' the king: "Haud," quo' the wind.
Sair cravers are ill-payers.
"This proverb, and the reverse, viz., 'Ill payers are sore cravers,' I have never yet seen fail."—Kelly.
Sairs shouldna be sair handled.
That is, delicate or painful subjects should be cautiously alluded to.