Here lies a Proof that Wit can never be Defence enough against Mortality

All I ask, is the privilege for my masculine part the poet in me.... If I must not, because of my sex, have this freedom... I lay down my quill and you shall hear no more of me.

As love is the most noble and divine passion of the soul, so is it that to which we may justly attribute all the real satisfactions of life, and without it, man is unfinished, and unhappy.

Kings that made laws, first broke 'em.

Nothing is more capable of troubling our reason, and consuming our health, than secret notions of jealousy in solitude.

Time lessens all extremes and reduces 'em to mediums and unconcern.

Of all that writ, he was the wisest bard, who spoke this mighty truth- He that knew all that ever learning writ, Knew only this-that he knew nothing yet.