This is the age of oddities let loose.
The devil hath not, in all his quiver's choice, An arrow for the heart like a sweet voice.
The French courage proceeds from vanity
Every day confirms my opinion on the superiority of a vicious life, and if Virtue is not its own reward, I don't know any other stipend annexed to it.
Since Eve ate the apple, much depends on dinner.
As falls the dew on quenchless sands, blood only serves to wash ambition's hands.