Look What A Little Vain Dust We

Irresolution On The Schemes Of Life Which Offer Themselves To Our Choice, And Inconstancy In Pursuing Them, Are The Greatest Causes Of All Our Unhappiness.

A Jealous Man Is Very Quick In His Application: He Knows How To Find A Double Edge In An Invective, And To Draw A Satire On Himself Out Of A Panegyrick On Another.

Women Were Formed To Temper Mankind, And Sooth Them Into Tenderness And Compassion; Not To Set An Edge Upon Their Minds, And Blowup In Them Those Passions Which Are Too Apt To Rise Of Their Own Accord.

It Is A Melancholy Consideration That There Should Be Several Among Us So Hardened And Deluded As To Think An Oath A Proper Subject For A Jest; And To Make This, Which Is One Of The Most Solemn Acts Of Religion, An Occasion Of Mirth. Yet Such Is The Depravation Of Our Manners At Present, That Nothing Is More Frequent Than To Hear Profligate Men Ridiculing, To The Best Of Their Abilities, These Sacred Pledges Of Their Duty And Allegiance; And Endeavouring To Be Witty Upon Themselves, For Daring To Prevaricate With God And Man.

The Intelligence Of Affection Is Carried On By The Eye Only; Good-breeding Has Made The Tongue Falsify The Heart, And Act A Part Of Continued Restraint, While Nature Has Preserved The Eyes To Herself, That She May Not Be Disguised Or Misrepresented.