A Little Scorn Is Alluring.

Women Like Flames Have A Destroying Power; Never To Be Quenched Till They Themselves Devour.

Guilt Is Ever At A Loss, And Confusion Waits Upon It; When Innocence And Bold Truth Are Always Ready For Expression.

She Once Used Me With That Insolence, That In Revenge I Took Her To Pieces; Sifted Her, And Separated Her Failings; I Studied 'em, And Got 'em By Rote. The Catalogue Was So Large, That I Was Not Without Hopes, One Day Or Other To Hate Her Heartily.

A Woman Only Obliges A Man To Secrecy, That She May Have The Pleasure Of Telling Herself.

Love's But A Frailty Of The Mind, When 'tis Not With Ambition Joined.