A perfect woman's but a softer man.

Who are next to knaves? Those that converse with them.

Never elated when someone's oppressed, never dejected when another one's blessed.

Truths would you teach, or save a sinking land? All fear, none aid you, and few understand.

Speed the soft intercourse from soul to soul, And waft a sigh from Indus to the Pole.

I as little fear that God will damn a man that has charity, as I hope that the priests can save one who has not.

We think our fathers fools, so wise we grow. Our wiser sons, no doubt will think us so.