O fie, miss, you must not kiss and tell.

O, nothing is more alluring than a levee from a couch in some confusion.

She likes herself, yet others hates, For that which in herself she prizes; And while she laughs at them, forgets She is the thing that she despises.

A hungry wolf at all the herd will run, In hopes, through many, to make sure of one.

I came up stairs into the world, for I was born in a cellar.

Mr Witwould: "Pray, madam, do you pin up your hair with all your letters? I find I must keep copies." Mrs Millamant: "Only with those in verse.... I never pin up my hair with prose."

I am always of the opinion with the learned, if they speak first.