Accurst Be He That First Invented War.

Jigging Veins Of Rhyming Mother Wits.

I Am Envy, Begotten Of A Chimney-sweeper And An Oyster-wife. I Cannot Read, And Therefore Wish All Books Were Burnt; I Am Lean With Seeing Others Eat - O That There Would Come A Famine Through All The World, That All Might Die, And I Live Alone; Then Thou Should'st See How Fat I Would Be! But Must Thou Sit And I Stand? Come Down, With A Vengeance!

Religion Hides Many Mischiefs From Suspicion.

Our Swords Shall Play The Orators For Us.

Infinite Riches In A Little Room.