A wit with dunces, and a dunce with wits.

Women, as they are like riddles in being unintelligible, so generally resemble them in this, that they please us no longer once we know them.

Cursed be the verse, how well so e'er it flow, That tends to make one worthy man my foe.

Oft, as in airy rings they skim the heath, The clamtrous lapwings feel the leaden death; Oft, as the mounting larks their notes prepare They fall, and leave their little lives in air.

Nothing is more certain than much of the force; as well as grace, of arguments or instructions depends their conciseness.

The learned is happy, nature to explore; The fool is happy, that he knows no more.

Every woman is at heart a rake.