I have other fish to fry. Good painters imitate nature, bad ones spew it up. Hold you there, neither a strange hand nor my own, neither heavy nor light shall touch my bum. One man scorned and covered with scars still strove with his last ounce of courage to reach the unreachable stars; and the world will be better for this. I can look sharp as well as another, and let me alone keep the cobwebs out of my eyes. You must not think, sir, to catch old birds with chaff. I can tell where my own shoe pinches me. Man appoints, and God disappoints. I find my familiarity with thee has bred contempt. God who sends the wound sends the medicine. | 
