 Honest men are the soft easy cushions on which knaves repose and fatten. | | Ambition is a lust that is never quenched, but grows more inflamed and madder by enjoyment. | | Shining through tears, like April suns in showers, that labour to overcome the cloud that loads 'em. | | Justice is lame as well as blind, amongst us. | | Clocks will go as they are set, but man, irregular man, is never constant, never certain. | | No praying, it spoils business. | | Let us embrace, and from this very moment vow an eternal misery together. |
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