Poverty of course is no disgrace, but it is damned annoying.

Poverty of course is no disgrace, but it is damned annoying.

Oh, my country! how I leave my country!

Prostrate the beauteous ruin lies; and all That shared its shelter, perish in its fall.

The press is like the air, a chartered libertine.

Unlimited power is apt to corrupt the minds of those who possess it; and this I know, my lords, that where laws end, tyranny begins