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.

Beauty has wings, and too hastily flies, and love, unrewarded, soon sickens and dies.

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?

I am rich beyond the dreams of avarice.

Faith goes out through the window when beauty comes in at the door.

But from the hoop's bewitching round, Her very shoe has power to wound.

All moral laws are merely statements that certain kinds of actions will have good effects.