Then got he bow and fhafts of gold and lead, / In which fo fell and puiflant he grew, / That Jove himfelfe his powre began to dread, / And, taking up to heaven, him godded new.
I let him run on, this papier-maché Mephistopheles, and it seemed to me that if I tried I could poke my forefinger through him, and find nothing inside but a little loose dirt, maybe.
He drank a gutful of beer.
[…] who has more opportunities of acquiring the knowledge, than a physician? He is admitted into the dwellings of all ranks of people, and into the innermost parts of them; he sees them by their fireside, at their tables, and in their beds; he sees them at work, and at their recreations; he sees them in health, in sickness, and in the article of death; […]
