True Self-love And Social Are The Same.

Virtue, I Grant You, Is An Empty Boast; But Shall The Dignity Of Vice Be Lost?

On Life's Vast Ocean Diversely We Sail, Reason The Card, But Passion Is The Gale; Nor God Alone In The Still Calm We Find, He Mounts The Storm, And Walks Upon The Wind.

Calm, Thinking Villains, Whom No Faith Could Fix, Of Crooked Counsels And Dark Politics.

True Wit Is Nature To Advantage Dressed; What Oft Was Thought, But Ne'er So Well Expressed.

Beauty Draws Us With A Single Hair.