Old age is but a second childhood.

You vote yourselves salaries out of the public funds and care only for your own personal interests; hence the state limps along.

[Y]ou possess all the attributes of a demagogue; a screeching, horrible voice, a perverse, crossgrained nature and the language of the market-place. In you all is united which is needful for governing.

These impossible women! How they do get around us! The poet was right: can't live with them, or without them!

High thoughts must have high language.

Weak mortals, chained to the earth, creatures of clay as frail as the foliage of the woods, you unfortunate race, whose life is but darkness, as unreal as a shadow, the illusion of a dream.

Shall I crack any of those old jokes, master, At which the audience never fail to laugh?