All of Creation’s a farce. Man was born as a joke. In his head his reason is buffeted Like wind-blown smoke. Life is a game. Everyone ridicules everyone else. But he who has the last laugh Laughs longest.
Which means she to deceive, father or mother?
'Tis not enough to help the feeble up, but to support them after.
Ideas are the very coinage of your brain.
There is an old poor man,. . . . Oppress'd with two weak evils, age and hunger.
You are a lover. Borrow Cupid's wings and soar with them above a common bound.