A Little Scorn Is Alluring.

There Are Times When Sense May Be Unseasonable, As Well As Truth.

Blessings Ever Wait On Virtuous Deeds, And Though A Late, A Sure Reward Succeeds.

Words Are The Weak Support Of Cold Indifference; Love Has No Language To Be Heard.

Thus Grief Still Treads Upon The Heels Of Pleasure; Married In Haste, We May Repent At Leisure.

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."