What day is so festal it fails to reveal some theft?
Nothing is more intolerable than a wealthy woman.
Like warmed-up cabbage served at each repast, The repetition kills the wretch at last.
The sweetest pleasures soonest cloy, And its best flavour temperance gives to joy.
No wicked man knows happiness, and least of all the seducer of others.
Nature confesses that she has bestowed on the human race hearts of softest mould, in that she has given us tears.