Our Spirits Grow Gray Before Our Hairs.

The Most Mortifying Infirmity In Human Nature, To Feel In Ourselves, Or To Contemplate In Another, Is Perhaps Cowardice.

I Like You And Your Book, Ingenious Hone! In Whose Capacious All-embracing Leaves The Very Marrow Of Tradition 's Shown; And All That History, Much That Fiction Weaves.

I Never Knew An Enemy To Puns Who Was Not An Ill-natured Man.

My Only Books Were Woman's Looks,- And Folly 's All They 've Taught Me.

Credulity Is The Man's Weakness, But The Child's Strength.