Conscience And Wealth Are Not Always Neighbors.

Before We End Our Pilgrimage, 'tis Fit That We Should Leave Corruption, And Foul Sin, Behind Us, But With Wash'd Feet And Hands, The Heathens Dar' Not Enter Their Profane Temples; And For Me To Hope My Passage To Eternity Can Be Made Easy, Till I Have Shook Off The Burthen Of My Sins In Free Confession, Aided With Sorrow, And Repentance For Them, Is Against Reason.

Cheerful Looks Make Every Dish A Feast, And It Is That Which Crowns A Welcome.

What Pity 'tis, One That Can Speak So Well, Should In His Actions Be So Ill!

We Have Not An Hour Of Life In Which Our Pleasures Relish Not Some Pain, Our Sours, Some Sweetness.

Virgin Me No Virgins! I Must Have You Lose That Name, Or You Lose Me.