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.

Pleas'd look forward, pleas'd to look behind,And count each birthday with a grateful mind.

Many men have been capable of doing a wise thing, more a cunning thing, but very few a generous thing.

All nature mourns, the skies relent in showers; hushed are the birds, and closed the drooping flowers.

Men would be angels, angels would be gods.

Love finds an altar for forbidden fires.

That each from other differs, first confess; next that he varies from himself no less.