The happy have whole days, and those they choose. The unhappy have but hours, and those they lose.
A weak invention of the Enemy.
We shall find no fiend in hell can match the fury of a disappointed woman; scorned, slighted, dismissed without a parting pang.
Faint is the bliss, that never past thro' pain.
Prithee don't screw your wit beyond the compass of good manners.
Who fears t' offend takes the first step to please.