'Tis now the summer of your youth: time has not cropped the roses from your cheek, though sorrow long has washed them.

Can't I another's face commend, Or to her virtues be a friend, But instantly your forehead louers, As if her merit lessen'd yours?

Other men it is said have seen angels, but I have seen thee and thou art enough.

Now, in my opinion, a woman has no business with Power-Power admits no equal, and dismisses friendship for flattery. Besides, it keeps the men at a distance, and that is not always what we wish.

The lot of critics is to be remembered by what they failed to understand.

Honesty needs no pains to set itself off.

I'll tell thee what it says; it calls me villain, a treacherous husband, a cruel father, a false brother; one lost to nature and her charities; or to say all in one short word, it calls me - Gamester.