God made the country, and man made the town.
A heretic, my dear sir, is a fellow who disagrees with you regarding something neither of you knows anything about.
Satan trembles when he sees the weakest saint upon their knees.
Man disavows, and Deity disowns me: hell might afford my miseries a shelter; therefore hell keeps her ever-hungry mouths all bolted against me.
No one was ever scolded out of their sins.
I pity them greatly, but I must be mum, for how could we do without sugar and rum?