Time conquers all, and we must time obey.
For forms of faith let graceless zealots fight; his can't be wrong whose life is in the right.
Chaste to her husband, frank to all beside, A teeming mistress, but a barren bride.
Wholesome solitude, the nurse of sense!
Men, some to business, some to pleasure take; But every woman is at heart a rake.
An excuse is worse and more terrible than a lie; for an excuse is a lie guarded.