Commonplace Book: smackdown on accusations of sorcery

Apuleius' Apology (c. 158, A.'s defense speech, when accused by his in-laws of winning the affections of his (wealthy) wife by magic) is a pretty awesome and crazy thing: punning jokes about hair, really long dissertations on the importance of brushing your teeth, and snobbish insinuations along the lines of "you're probably too stupid to understand how mirrors work, Aemilianus, but if you ever got your hands on one, even you would be amused by the sight of your ugly face." This bit, however, is especially top-notch:

But if my accusers really think, in the manner of οἱ πολλοί, that I am actually a magician, one who commands the power of speaking with the immortal gods for whatever he desires, by a certain awesome virtue in his enchantments, then I really wonder why weren't afraid to accuse someone who they admit is capable of so much. For no caution can be taken around such a hidden and divine ability the way it can in other cases. Anyone who takes a hitman to court comes with a bodyguard; one who accuses a poisoner dines more carefully; he who lays charges against a thief guards his own possessions. So, one who is bringing such a magician as these men claim I am to court on a capital charge, with what bodyguard, with what precautions, with what safeties is he to prevent an invisible and inexorable destruction? Why with none at all. And that's why a charge of this nature does not arise from the sort of man who actually believes it.-- Apologia 26