The Wretched Have No Friends.

And He, Who Servilely Creeps After Sense, Is Safe, But Ne'er Will Reach An Excellence.

The Poorest Of The Sex Have Still An Itch To Know Their Fortunes, Equal To The Rich. The Dairy-maid Inquires, If She Shall Take The Trusty Tailor, And The Cook Forsake.

Good Sense And Good Nature Are Never Separated; And Good Nature Is The Product Of Right Reason.

And Nobler Is A Limited Command, Given By The Love Of All Your Native Land, Than A Successive Title, Long And Dark, Drawn From The Mouldy Rolls Of Noah's Ark.

One Cannot Say He Wanted Wit, But Rather That He Was Frugal Of It.