When The Mischief Is Done The Door

Vice Can Deceive Under The Guise And Shadow Of Virtue.

There's Scarce A Case Comes On But You Shall Find A Woman's At The Bottom. [lat., Nulla Fere Causa Est In Qua Non Femina Litem Moverit.]

When The Mischief Is Done The Door Is Shut.

Of What Use Are Pedigrees, Or To Be Thought Of Noble Blood, Or The Display Of Family Portraits, O Ponticus?

Nature Confesses That She Has Bestowed On The Human Race Hearts Of Softest Mould, In That She Has Given Us Tears.