There Are Pretenders To Piety As Well

A Husband Is A Plaster That Cures All The Ills Of Girlhood.

I Have The Knack Of Easing Scruples.

The Defects Of Human Nature Afford Us Opportunities Of Exercising Our Philosophy, The Best Employment Of Our Virtues. If All Men Were Righteous, All Hearts True And Frank And Loyal, What Use Would Our Virtues Be?

Cover That Bosom That I Must Not See: Souls Are Wounded By Such Things.

Good Heavens! For More Than Forty Years I Have Been Speaking Prose Without Knowing It.