My Voice Is Still For War.

Better To Die Ten Thousand Deaths, Than Wound My Honour.

If Men, Who In Their Hearts Are Friends To A Government, Forbear Giving It Their Utmost Assistance Against Its Enemies, They Put It In The Power Of A Few Desperate Men To Ruin The Welfare Of Those Who Are Much Superior To Them In Strength, Number, And Interest.

There Is No Kind Of False Wit Which Has Been So Recommended By The Practice Of All Ages, As That Which Consists In A Jingle Of Words, And Is Comprehended Under The General Name Of Punning.

All Well-regulated Families Set Apart An Hour Every Morning For Tea And Bread And Butter

Honor's A Fine Imaginary Notion, That Draws In Raw And Unexperienced Men To Real Mischiefs.