I am Envy. I cannot read and therefore wish all books burned.

I am Envy, begotten of a chimney-sweeper and an oyster-wife. I cannot read, and therefore wish all books were burnt; I am lean with seeing others eat - O that there would come a famine through all the world, that all might die, and I live alone; then thou should'st see how fat I would be! But must thou sit and I stand? Come down, with a vengeance!

Jigging veins of rhyming mother wits.

Accurst be he that first invented war.

Confess and be hanged.

Our swords shall play the orators for us.