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.
If the heart of a man is depressed with cares, The mist is dispelled when a woman appears.
Sure men were born to lie, and women to believe them!
No author ever spar'd a brother.
Fill it up. I take as large draughts of liquor as I did of love. I hate a flincher in either.
Envy is a kind of praise.