The true touchstone of wit is the impromptu.

I believe that two and two are four and that four and four are eight.

Love is often the fruit of marriage.

All the ills of mankind, all the tragic misfortunes that fill the history books, all the political blunders, all the failures of the great leaders have arisen merely from a lack of skill at dancing.

I prefer a pleasant vice to an annoying virtue.

Reason is not what decides love.

Then worms shall try That long preserved virginity, And your quaint honor turn to dust, And into ashes all my lust. The grave's a fine and private place But none, I think, do there embrace.