To keep up as good a cuisine as your father.

The greatest reverence is due to a child! If you are contemplating a disgraceful act, despise not your child's tender years.

Like warmed-up cabbage served at each repast, The repetition kills the wretch at last.

The brief span of our poor unhappy life to its final hour Is hastening on; and while we drink and call for gay wreaths, Perfumes, and young girls, old age creeps upon us, unperceived.

It is a wretched thing to rest upon the fame of others, lest, the supporting pillar being removed, the superstructure should collapse in ruin.

The smell of profit is clean and sweet, whatever the source.

Revenge is always the weak pleasure of a little and narrow mind.