You ever hear guys with small cocks talk about sex? Can't talk about it enough. They even got poems. They'll say, 'It's not the motion of the ocean, it's the boat of the lotion.' I've even heard variants..., it's not the tree or the size, it's the axe that you wax.' It's a whole sub-genre of poetry now that's taught in many of our finer institutions.

Most men will go farther to give advice than to follow their own opinion.

We are happy at the respect others pay our favorites, because we consider it a lively confirmation of our own choice, and as so much homage reflected on ourselves.

A suspicious person is the rival of him that deceives, both seem to practice a knowledge of cunning device, and equable sense of disengenuous merit.

It got very tedious saying the same jokes in the same way with the same attitude.

Laws, however divine in origin and institution, would be found of little coercion among men, were the administration of them not committed to mortals.

You know, with Hitler, the more I learn about that guy, the more I don't care for him.