Thus shadow owes its birth to light.
One wife is too much for most husbands to bear, But two at a time there's no mortal can bear.
Whoever heard a man of fortune in England talk of the necessaries of life? . . . Whether we can afford it or no, we must have superfluities.
To shoot at crows is powder flung away.
I must have women - there is nothing unbends the mind like them.
I hate the man who builds his name On ruins of another's fame. Thus prudes, by characters o'erthrown, Imagine that they raise their own. Thus Scribblers, covetous of praise, Think slander can transplant the bays.