Tis the greatest misfortune in nature for a woman to want a confidant.
Charming women can true converts make, We love the precepts for the teacher's sake.
False love is only blinder.
Like hungry guests, a sitting audience looks / Plays are like suppers; poets are the cooks / The founder's you; the table is this place / The carvers we; the prologue is the grace / Each act a course, each scene, a different dish.
The shortest pleasures are the sweetest.
Do you think a woman's silence can be natural?