"Have you anything to say?"
"Conscience doth make cowards of us all," intoned the prisoner.
"I'm not as depraved as Fitzgerald, as dissolute as Kipling, as ungrateful as Hemingway, as demented as Galsworthy, or as tasteless as Shakespeare . . ."
"That's enough," interrupted the judge, "ten days."
"Bailiff, make a list of the names he mentioned and 'round 'em all up."