When we risk no contradiction, It prompts the tongue to deal in fiction.

Were I laid on Greenland's Coast, And in my Arms embrac'd my Lass; Warm amidst eternal Frost, Too soon the Half Year's Night would pass.

You can only be called a hypocrite if you judge others first.

Man may escape from rope and gun; Nay, some have outlived the doctor's pill: Who takes a woman must be undone, That basilisk is sure to kill. The fly that sips treacle is lost in the sweets, So he that tastes woman, woman, woman, He that tastes woman, ruin meets.

To friendship every burden's light.

[Gulliver was soon being read] "from the cabinet council to the nursery".

Lest men suspect your tale untrue, Keep probability in view.