Solitude Begets Whimsies.

A Man That Is Ashamed Of Passions That Are Natural And Reasonable Is Generally Proud Of Those That Are Shameful And Silly.

See How That Pair Of Billing Doves With Open Murmurs Own Their Loves And, Heedless Of Censorious Eyes, Pursue Their Unpolluted Joys: No Fears Of Future Want Molest The Downy Quiet Of Their Nest.

We Are No More Free Agents Than The Queen Of Clubs When She Victoriously Takes Prisoner The Knave Of Hearts.

It's In No Way My Interest (according To The Common Acceptance Of That Word) To Convince The World Of Their Errors; That Is, I Shall Get Nothing From It But The Private Satisfaction Of Having Done Good To Mankind, And I Know Nobody That Reckons That Satisfaction Any Part Of Their Interest.

The One Thing That Reconciles Me To The Fact Of Being A Woman Is The Reflection That It Delivers Me From The Necessity Of Being Married To One.