Possession without obligation to the object possessed approaches felicity.
I know him, February's thrush, And loud at eve he valentines On sprays that paw the naked bush Where soon will sprout the thorns and bines.
Heiresses are never jilted.
The well of true wit is truth itself.
Not till the fire is dying in the grate, Look we for any kinship with the stars.
Prepare, You lovers, to know Love a thing of moods: Not like hard life, of laws.