All Habits Gather By Unseen Degrees.

There Is An Inimitable Grace In Virgil's Words, And In Them Principally Consists That Beauty Which Gives So Inexpressible A Pleasure To Him Who Best Understands Their Force. This Diction Of His, I Must Once Again Say, Is Never To Be Copied; And Since It Cannot, He Will Appear But Lame In The Best Translation.

Sweet Is Pleasure After Pain.

For My Part, I Can Compare Her (a Gossip) To Nothing But The Sun; For, Like Him, She Knows No Rest, Nor Ever Sets In One Place But To Rise In Another.

Either Be Wholly Slaves Or Wholly Free.

Thou Tyrant, Tyrant Jealousy, Thou Tyrant Of The Mind!