Tis a question whether adversity or prosperity makes the most poets.

Crimes, like virtues, are their own rewards.

'Tis a strange thing, Sam, that among us people can't agree the whole week, because they go different ways upon Sundays.

Like hungry guests, a sitting audience looks / Plays are like suppers; poets are the cooks / The founder's you; the table is this place / The carvers we; the prologue is the grace / Each act a course, each scene, a different dish.

Necessity, the mother of invention.

Tis the greatest misfortune in nature for a woman to want a confidant.

Women are like pictures: of no value in the hands of a fool till he hears men of sense bid high for the purchase.