We are persons of quality, I assure you, and women of fashion, and come to see and to be seen.

A good poet's made as well as born.

A good man should and must Sit rather down with loss than rise unjust.

A new disease? I know not, new or old, but it may well be called poor mortals plague for, like a pestilence, it doth infect the houses of the brain till not a thought, or motion, in the mind, be free from the black poison of suspect.

Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup And I'll not look for wine.

I know no disease of the soul but ignorance, a pernicious evil, the darkener of man's life, the disturber of his reason, and common confounder of truth.

The burnt child dreads the fire.