Information appears to stew out of me naturally, like the precious otter of roses out of the otter.
He is useless on top of the ground; he ought to be under it, inspiring the cabbages.
On with the dance, let the joy be unconfined.
Give an Irishman lager for a month and he's a dead man. An Irishman's stomach is lined with copper, and the beer corrodes it. But whiskey polishes the copper and is the saving of him.
The average man don't like trouble and danger.
Prosperity is the best protector of principle.