Envy is a passion so full of cowardice and shame that nobody ever had the confidence to own it.

Now piercèd is her virgin zone; She feels the foe within it. She hears a broken amorous groan, The panting lover's fainting moan, Just in the happy minute.

Dead we become the lumber of the world.

'Tis dangerous to think - For who by thinking tempts his jealous Fate, Is straight arraign'd as Traytor to the State, And none that come within the Verge of Sense, Have to Preferment now the least Pretence. . . .

All men would be cowards if they could.

The clog of all pleasure, the luggage of life, is the best can be said for a very good wife.

Mothers who force their daughters into interested marriage, are worse than the Ammonites who sacrificed their children to Moloch--the latter undergoing a speedy death, the former suffering years of torture, but too frequently leading to the same result.