Do Not Take A Blind Guide.

Chorus Of Women: [...] Oh! My Good, Gallant Lysistrata, And All My Friends, Be Ever Like A Bundle Of Nettles; Never Let You Anger Slacken; The Wind Of Fortune Blown Our Way.

Look At The Orators In Our Republics; As Long As They Are Poor, Both State And People Can Only Praise Their Uprightness; But Once They Are Fattened On The Public Funds, They Conceive A Hatred For Justice, Plan Intrigues Against The People And Attack The Democracy.

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.

Poverty, The Most Fearful Monster That Ever Drew Breath.

I Would Treat Her Like An Egg, The Shell Of Which We Remove Before Eating It; I Would Take Off Her Mask And Then Kiss Her Pretty Face.