Thou art a retailer of phrases, and dost deal in remnants of remnants.

There are come Critics so with Spleen diseased, They scarcely come inclining to be pleased: And sure he must have more than mortal Skill, Who please one against his Will.

There is nothing more unbecoming a man of quality than to laugh ... 'tis such a vulgar expression of the passion!

I confess freely to you, I could never look long upon a monkey, without very mortifying reflections.

Whoever is king, is also the father of his country.

If happiness in self-content is placed, The wise are wretched, and fools only blessed.

A hungry wolf at all the herd will run, In hopes, through many, to make sure of one.