Old Age Is Second Childhood.

The Children Now Love Luxury; They Have Bad Manners, Contempt For Authority; They Show Disrespect For Elders And Love Chatter In Place Of Exercise. Children Are Now Tyrants, Not The Servants Of Their Households. They No Longer Rise When Elders Enter The Room. They Contradict Their Parents, Chatter Before Company, Gobble Up Dainties At The Table, Cross Their Legs, And Tyrannize Their Teachers.

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.

The Gods, My Dear Simple Fellow, Are A Mere Expression Coined By Vulgar Superstition. We Frown Upon Such Coinage Here.

If I Get Clear Of My Debts, I Care Not Though Men Call Me Bold, Glib Of Tongue, Audacious, Impudent, Shameless, A Fabricator Of Falsehoods, Inventor Of Words, Practised In Lawsuits, A Pettifogger, A Rattle, A Fox, A Sharper, A Knave, A Dissembler, A Slippery Fellow, An Imposter, A Rogue That Deserves The Cat-o-nine-tails, A Blackguard, A Twister, A Licker-up Of Hashes; They Call All This When They Meet Me, If They Please, I Care Not.

It Is Bad Taste For A Poet To Be Coarse And Hairy.