That praises are without reason lavished on the dead, and that the honours due only to are paid to antiquity, is a complaint likely to be always continued by those who, being able to add nothing to truth, hope for eminence from the heresies of paradox; or those who, being forced by disappointment upon consolatory expedients, are willing to hope from posterity what the present age refuses, and flatter themselves that the regard which is yet denied by envy will be at last bestowed by time.

The covetous man never has money. The prodigal will have none shortly.

How Fortune piles her sports when she begins to practise them!

Guilt's a terrible thing.

A thankful man owes a courtesy ever; the unthankful but when he needs it.

Well, as he brews, so shall he drink.

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