Cover that bosom that I must not see: souls are wounded by such things.
I believe that two and two are four and that four and four are eight.
You have but to hold forth in cap and gown, and any gibberish becomes learning, all nonsense passes for sense.
Perfect reason avoids all extremes.
Cultivated people should be superior to any consideration so sordid as a mercenary interest.
You are a fool in four letters, my son.