Justice may wink a while, but see at last

That disease Of which all old men sicken,—avarice.

In spite of my teeth.

Wilt make haste to give up thy verdict because thou wilt not lose thy dinner.

From thousands of our undone widows One may derive some wit.

’Tis slight, not strength, that gives the greatest lift.

Beat all your feathers as flat down as pancakes.