The itch of scribbling.

Great power which incites great envy, hurls some men to destruction; they are drowned in a long splendid stream of honors.

When talent fails, indignation writes the verse.

Now that no one buys our votes, the public has long since cast off its cares; for the people that once bestowed commands, consulships, legions, and all else, now meddles no more and longs eagerly for just two things - bread and circuses.

Where have you ever found that man who stopped short after the perpetration of a single crime?

It is difficult not to write satire.

No one ever reached the worst of a vice at one leap