“There is no honest man! not one, that can resist the attraction of gold!”

To win the people, always cook them some savoury that pleases them.

When men drink wine they are rich, they are busy, they push lawsuits, they are happy, they are friends.

Ah! the Generals! they are numerous, but not good for much!

A fox is subtlety itself.

A man’s homeland is wherever he prospers.

Have you ever, looking up, seen a cloud like to a Centaur, a Part, or a Wolf, or a Bull?

It is bad taste for a poet to be coarse and hairy.

You vote yourselves salaries out of the public funds and care only for your own personal interests; hence the state limps along.

These impossible women! How they do get around us! The poet was right: can’t live with them, or without them!

Hunger knows no friend but its feeder.

The gods, my dear simple fellow, are a mere expression coined by vulgar superstition. We frown upon such coinage here.

There is no beast, no rush of fire, like woman so untamed. She calmly goes her way where even panthers would be shamed.

By words the mind is winged.

Your lost friends are not dead, but gone before, advanced a stage or two upon that road which you must travel in the steps they trod.

Tis not for us to warn a wilful sinner; We stay him not, but let him run his course, Till by misfortunes rous’d, his conscience wakes, And prompts him to appease th’ offended gods.

Evil events from evil causes spring.

Education is the key to unlock the golden door of freedom.

If gold rusts, what then can iron do?

I have something that I call my Golden Rule. It goes something like this: ‘Do unto others twenty-five percent better than you expect them to do unto you.’ The twenty-five percent is for error.

DNA was my only gold rush. I regarded DNA as worth a gold rush.

Fondnesse it were for any being free, To covet fetters, though they golden bee.

The golden hours on angel wings Flew o’er me and my dearie, For dear to me as light and life Was my sweet Highland Mary.

Our two souls therefore which are one, Though I must go, endure not yet A breach, but an expansion, Like gold to airy thinness beat.

Time will run back and fetch the Age of Gold.