Bid the dishonest man mend himself; if he mend, he is no longer dishonest.
To be now a sensible man, by and by a fool, and presently a beast!
If after every tempest come such calms, May the winds blow till they have waken'd death!
We cannot fight for love, as men may do; we shou'd be woo'd, and were not made to woo
We will all laugh at gilded butterflies.
Peopleโs good deeds we write in water. The evil deeds are etched in brass.