There are times when sense may be unseasonable, as well as truth.

Hannibal was a very pretty fellow in those days.

Thou art a retailer of phrases, and dost deal in remnants of remnants.

Honor is a public enemy, and conscience a domestic, and he that would secure his pleasure, must pay a tribute to one and go halves with t'other.

Thus in this sad, but oh, too pleasing state! my soul can fix upon nothing but thee; thee it contemplates, admires, adores, nay depends on, trusts on you alone.

But say what you will, 'tis better to be left than never to have been loved. To pass our youth in dull indifference, to refuse the sweets of life because they once must leave us, is as preposterous as to wish to have been born old, because we one day must be old.

I hope you do not think me prone to any iteration of nuptials.