Shall I Crack Any Of

You Vote Yourselves Salaries Out Of The Public Funds And Care Only For Your Own Personal Interests; Hence The State Limps Along.

This Is What Extremely Grieves Us, That A Man Who Never Fought Should Contrive Our Fees To Pilfer, On Who For His Native Land Never To This Day Had Oar, Or Lance, Or Blister In His Hand.

Poverty, The Most Fearful Monster That Ever Drew Breath.

If You Strike Upon A Thought That Baffles You, Break Off From That Entanglement And Try Another, So Shall Your Wits Be Fresh To Start Again.

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.