Love Is A Second Life.

Authors Have Established It As A Kind Of Rule, That A Man Ought To Be Dull Sometimes; As The Most Severe Reader Makes Allowances For Many Rests And Nodding-places In A Voluminous Writer.

Good Nature Is More Agreeable In Conversation Than Wit And Gives A Certain Air To The Countenance Which Is More Amiable Than Beauty.

Arguments Out Of A Pretty Mouth Are Unanswerable.

It Is A Great Presumption To Ascribe Our Successes To Our Own Management, And Not To Esteem Ourselves Upon Any Blessing, Rather As It Is The Bounty Of Heaven, Than The Acquisition Of Our Own Prudence.

Women Were Formed To Temper Mankind, And Sooth Them Into Tenderness And Compassion; Not To Set An Edge Upon Their Minds, And Blowup In Them Those Passions Which Are Too Apt To Rise Of Their Own Accord.