A Rich Rogue Nowadays Is Fit Company

In Love We Are All Fools Alike.

I Hate The Man Who Builds His Name On Ruins Of Another's Fame. Thus Prudes, By Characters O'erthrown, Imagine That They Raise Their Own. Thus Scribblers, Covetous Of Praise, Think Slander Can Transplant The Bays.

There Is No Dependence That Can Be Sure But A Dependence Upon One's Self.

Beasts Kill For Hunger, Men For Pay.

Here Shock, The Pride Of All His Kind, Is Laid, Who Fawned Like Man, But Ne'er Like Man Betrayed.