No flattery, boy! an honest man cannot live by it; it is a little, sneaking art, which knaves use to cajole and soften fools withal.
Justice is lame as well as blind, amongst us.
Who's a prince or beggar in the grave?
Could my griefs speak, the tale would have no end.
Base natures ever judge a thing above them, and hate a power they are too much obliged to.
Dame Fortune, like most others of the female sex, is generally most indulgent to the nimble-mettled blockheads.