Nothing Can Confound A Wise Man More

And Angling Too, That Solitary Vice, What Izaak Walton Sings Or Says: The Quaint, Old, Cruel Coxcomb, In His Gullet Should Have A Hook, And A Small Trout To Pull It.

Sweet Is Old Wine In Bottles, Ale In Barrels.

Why Do They Call Me Misanthrope? Because They Hate Me, Not I Them.

Armenian Is The Language To Speak With God.

I Do Detest Everything Which Is Not Perfectly Mutual.