The laws I love; the lawyers I suspect.
It can't be Nature, for it is not sense.
Ourselves are to ourselves the cause of ill.
When fiction rises pleasing to the eye, men will believe, because they love the lie; but truth herself, if clouded with a frown, must have some solemn proof to pass her down.
No tribute is laid on castles in the air.
Greatly his foes he dreads, but more his friends; He hurts me most who lavishly commends.