I shall never forgive you for teaching me how to love life.
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.
The clog of all pleasure, the luggage of life, is the best can be said for a very good wife.
Nothing suits worse with vice than want of sense
Whenever you preach, be sure that you lift the Saviour high and lay the sinner low.
I'd be a dog, a monkey, or a bear, or anything but that vain animal who is so proud of being rational.