Well for the drones of the social hive that there are bees of an industrious turn, willing, for an infinitesimal share of the honey, to undertake the labor of its fabrication.

Coquetry is the champagne of love.

O men with sisters dear, O men with mothers and wives, It is not linen you 're wearing out, But human creatures' lives!

To attempt to advise conceited people is like whistling against the wind.

The year's in wane; There is nothing adorning; The night has no eve, And the day has no morning; Cold winter gives warning!

No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees, No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds - November!

O bed! O bed! delicious bed! That heaven upon earth to the weary head.