There Is No Flesh In Man's Obdurate

Vice Stings Us Even In Our Pleasures, But Virtue Consoles Us Even In Our Pains.

Slaves Cannot Breathe In England; If Their Lungs Receive Our Air, That Moment They Are Free; They Touch Our Country, And Their Shackles Fall.

Good Sense, Good Health, Good Conscience, And Good Fame,--all These Belong To Virtue, And All Prove That Virtue Has A Title To Your Love.

Pernicious Weed! Whose Scent The Fair Annoys, Unfriendly To Society's Chief Joys: Thy Worst Effect Is Banishing For Hours The Sex Whose Presence Civilizes Ours.

A Fool Must Now And Then Be Right, By Chance