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

A pretty woman is a welcome guest.

Nothing so fretful, so despicable as a Scribbler, see what I am, and what a parcel of Scoundrels I have brought about my ears, and what language I have been obliged to treat them with to deal with them in their own way; - all this comes of Authorship.

Fair Greece! sad relic of departed worth! Immortal, though no more! though fallen, great!

Physicians mend or end us, Secundum artem; but although we sneer - In health - when ill we call them to attend us, Without the least propensity to jeer

No ear can hear nor tongue can tell the tortures of the inward hell!

Religion-freedom-vengeance-what you will, A word's enough to raise mankind to kill.