A Wonder Lasts But Nine Days, And

The Devil Take Me, If I Think Anything But Love To Be The Object Of Love.

There Are Persons Of That General Philanthropy And Easy Tempers, Which The World In Contempt Generally Calls Good-natured, Who Seem To Be Sent Into The World With The Same Design With Which Men Put Little Fish Into A Pike Pond, In Order Only To Be Devoured By That Voracious Water-hero.

Hairbreadth Missings Of Happiness Look Like The Insults Of Fortune.

Some Folks Rail Against Other Folks, Because Other Folks Have What Some Folks Would Be Glad Of.

For I Hope My Friends Will Pardon Me, When I Declare, I Know None Of Them Without A Fault; And I Should Be Sorry If I Could Imagine, I Had Any Friend Who Could Not See Mine. Forgiveness, Of This Kind, We Give And Demand In Turn.