No one ever became extremely wicked suddenly.
The itch of scribbling.
The thirst after fame is greater than that after virtue; for who embraces virtue if you take away its rewards?
Nature and wisdom always say the same.
An incurable itch for scribbling takes possession of many, and grows inveterate in their insane breasts.
Today there's more fellowship among snakes than among mankind. Wild beasts spare those with similar markings.