Say what you will, 'tis better to be left than never to have been loved.
Nothing but you can lay hold of my mind, and that can lay hold of nothing but you.
He who closes his ears to the views of others shows little confidence in the integrity of his own views.
Fear comes from uncertainty. When we are absolutely certain, whether of our worth or worthlessness, we are almost impervious to fear.
Love's but the frailty of the mind, When 'tis not with ambition joined; A sickly flame, which if not fed expires; And feeding, wastes in self-consuming fires.
There is in true beauty, as in courage, something which narrow souls cannot dare to admire.
O fie, miss, you must not kiss and tell.
Women are like tricks by sleight of hand, Which, to admire, we should not understand
But say what you will, 'tis better to be left than never to have been loved. To pass our youth in dull indifference, to refuse the sweets of life because they once must leave us, is as preposterous as to wish to have been born old, because we one day must be old.
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
No mask like open truth to cover lies, As to go naked is the best disguise.
Music has charms to sooth a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.
I find we are growing serious, and then we are in great danger of being dull.
A woman only obliges a man to secrecy, that she may have the pleasure of telling herself.
Wit must be foiled by wit: cut a diamond with a diamond.
Come, come, leave business to idlers, and wisdom to fools: they have need of 'em: wit be my faculty, and pleasure my occupation, and let father Time shake his glass.
A little scorn is alluring.
'Tis well enough for a servant to be bred at an University. But the education is a little too pedantic for a gentleman.
No, I'm no enemy to learning; it hurts not me.
A hungry wolf at all the herd will run, In hopes, through many, to make sure of one.
She likes herself, yet others hates, For that which in herself she prizes; And while she laughs at them, forgets She is the thing that she despises.
In my conscience I believe the baggage loves me, for she never speaks well of me herself, nor suffers any body else to rail at me.
Courtship is to marriage, as a very witty prologue to a very dull play.
Grief walks upon the heels of pleasure; married in haste, we repent at leisure.
If there's delight in love, 'Tis when I see that heart, which others bleed for, bleed for me.
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