No, I'm No Enemy To Learning; It

Let Us Be Very Strange And Well-bred:let Us Be As Strange As If We Had Been Married A Great While;and As Well-bred As If We Were Not Married At All.

Beauty Is The Lover's Gift.

Turn Pimp, Flatterer, Quack, Lawyer, Parson, Be Chaplain To An Atheist, Or Stallion To An Old Woman, Anything But A Poet; For A Poet Is Worse, More Servile, Timorous And Fawning Than Any I Have Named.

Nor Hell A Fury, Like A Woman Scorn'd.

I Know A Lady That Loves To Talk So Incessantly, She Won't Give An Echo Fair Play; She Has That Everlasting Rotation Of Tongue That An Echo Must Wait Till She Dies Before It Can Catch Her Last Words!