There Is No Book On Which We

We Look After Religion As The Butcher Did After His Knife, When He Had It In His Mouth.

The Clergy Would Have Us Believe Them Against Our Own Reason, As The Woman Would Have Her Husband Against His Own Eyes.

Fine Wits Destroy Themselves With Their Own Plots, In Meddling With Great Affairs Of State.

Pleasure Is Nothing Else But The Intermission Of Pain, The Enjoying Of Something I Am In Great Trouble For Till I Have It.

Ignorance Of The Law Excuses No Man; Not That All Men Know The Law, But Because 'tis An Excuse Every Man Will Plead, And No Man Can Tell How To Refute Him.