The finishing stroke of all sorrow.
Majestic mighty Wealth is the holiest of our gods.
No other protection is wanting, provided you are under the guidance of prudence.
What man have you ever seen who was contented with one crime only?
Already long ago, from when we sold our vote to no man, the People have abdicated our duties; for the People who once upon a time handed out military command, high civil office, legions — everything, now restrains itself and anxiously hopes for just two things: bread and circuses.
Censure pardons the ravens but rebukes the doves. [The innocent are punished and the wicked escape.]