There are innumerable questions to which the inquisitive mind can in this state receive no answer: Why do you and I exist? Why was this world created? Since it was to be created, why was it not created sooner?
Politics are now nothing more than means of rising in the world.
Just praise is only a debt, but flattery is a present.
It matters not how a man dies, but how he lives.
Sir, you have but two topics, yourself and me. I am sick of both.
A quibble is to Shakespeare what luminous vapours are to the traveller: he follows it at all adventures; it is sure to lead him out of his way and sure to engulf him in the mire.