And malt does more than Milton can To justify God's ways to man. — A. E. Housman. English classicist and poet (1859–1936) Drinking
Who made the world I cannot tell; 'Tis made, and here am I in hell. My hand, though now my knuckles bleed, I never soiled with such a deed.
In every American there is an air of incorrigible innocence, which seems to conceal a diabolical cunning.