A wise man will find us to be rogues by our faces.
Many a truth is told in jest.
I never knew any man cured of inattention.
Silks, velvets, calicoes, and the whole lexicon of female fopperies.
Such a man, truly wise, creams off Nature leaving the sour and the dregs for philosophy and reason to lap up.
Where Young must torture his invention To flatter knaves, or lose his pension.