Mischief and malice grow on the same branch of the tree of evil.
Birth is a shadow. Courage, self-sustained, outlords succession's phlegm, and needs no ancestors.
Shame on those breasts of stone that cannot melt in soft adoption of another's sorrow.
She who means no mischief does it all.
Law that shocks equity is reason's murderer.
Oh, treacherous night thou lendest thy ready veil to every treason, and teeming mischief's beneath thy shade.