The philosophers tell us the world iz round; I think it would be much better if they could tell us it waz square.
All cunning men are like foxes, very cunning until they are kaught, and then they are the sillyest foxes yu ever see.
Thare iz nothing more common than lying, and thare are three kinds ov lies, the white, the black, and the mulatto; the last one a cross between the other two, and rather the meanest one in the lot.
Logick iz truth, and eloquence iz the art ov presenting it; thare iz no logick nor eloquence in a lie.
Sho me a man who iz allwuss whining about hiz bad luck, and I will sho yu one who iz too lazy to seize upon good luck if it should ever cum within hiz reach.
Truth iz perennial, never grows gray; what waz true when the world waz kreated iz true now, and only what waz true then iz true now.
