Art Hath An Enemy Call'd Ignorance .

Memory, Of All The Powers Of The Mind, Is The Most Delicate And Frail.

Forbear, You Things That Stand Upon The Pinnacles Of State, To Boast Your Slippery Height! When You Do Fall, You Dash Yourselves In Pieces, Ne'er To Rise: And He That Lends You Pity, Is Not Wise.

Guilt's A Terrible Thing.

No Glass Renders A Man's Form Or Likeness So True As His Speech.

We Are Persons Of Quality, I Assure You, And Women Of Fashion, And Come To See And To Be Seen.