Every dog must have his day.

This single Stick, which you now behold ingloriously lying in that neglected Corner, I once knew in a flourishing State in a Forest: It was full of Sap, full of Leaves, and full of Boughs: But now, in vain does the busy Art of Man pretend to vie with Nature, by tying that withered Bundle of Twigs to its sapless Trunk: It is at best but the Reverse of what it was; a Tree turned upside down, the Branches on the Earth, and the Root in the Air.

She wears her clothes as if they were thrown on with a pitchfork.

I hate nobody: I am in charity with the world.

For in reason, all government without the consent of the governed is the very definition of slavery.

Censure is the tax a man pays to the public for being eminent.

All fits of pleasure are balanced by an equal degree of pain or languor; it is like spending this year part of the next year's revenue.