War is the statesman's game, the priest's delight, the lawyer's jest, the hired assassin's trade.

Teas, Where small talk dies in agonies.

... Virtue owns a more eternal foe Than Force or Fraud: old Custom, legal Crime, And bloody Faith the foulest birth of Time.

What do you think? Young women of rank eat - you will never guess what - garlick!

First our pleasures die - and then our hopes, and then our fears - and when these are dead, the debt is due dust claims dust - and we die too.

The man of virtuous soul commands not, nor obeys.

Whatever strengthens and purifies the affections, enlarges the imagination, and adds spirit to sense, is useful.