Women Ought Not To Know Their Own

Pleasures Are All Alike Simply Considered In Themselves: He That Hunts, Or He That Governs The Commonwealth, They Both Please Themselves Alike, Only We Commend That, Whereby We Ourselves Receive Some Benefit.

All Things Are God's Already; We Can Give Him No Right, By Consecrating Any, That He Had Not Before, Only We Set It Apart To His Service - Just As A Gardener Brings His Master A Basket Of Apricots, And Presents Them; His Lord Thanks Him, And Perhaps Gives Him Something For His Pains, And Yet The Apricots Were As Much His Lord's Before As Now.

Twas An Unhappy Division That Has Been Made Between Faith And Works; Though In My Intellect I May Divide Them, Just As In The Candle I Know There Is Both Light And Heat. But Yet, Put Out The Candle, And They Are Both Gone.

Fine Wits Destroy Themselves With Their Own Plots, In Meddling With Great Affairs Of State.

Pleasure Is Nothing Else But The Intermission Of Pain, The Enjoying Of Something I Am In Great Trouble For Till I Have It.