Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.

Are we aware of our obligations to a mob? It is the mob that labor in your fields and serve in your houses - that man your navy, and recruit your army - that have enabled you to defy the world, and can also defy you when neglect and calamity have driven them to despair. You may call the people a mob; but do not forget that a mob too often speaks the sentiments of the people.

No words suffice the secret soul to show, For truth denies all eloquence to woe.

Heaven gives its favourites-early death.

For what were all these country patriots born? To hunt, and vote, and raise the price of corn?

There is something pagan in me that I cannot shake off. In short, I deny nothing, but doubt everything.

And if I laugh at any mortal thing, 'Tis that I may not weep.