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.

I am rich beyond the dreams of avarice.

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

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

Honesty needs no pains to set itself off.

Ay, rail at gaming - 'tis a rich topic, and affords noble declamation. Go, preach against it in the city - you'll find a congregation in every tavern.

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?