A Wonder Lasts But Nine Days, And

A Rich Man Without Charity Is A Rogue; And Perhaps It Would Be No Difficult Matter To Prove That He Is Also A Fool.

I Describe Not Men, But Manners; Not An Individual, But A Species.

Heroes, Notwithstanding The High Ideas Which, By The Means Of Flatterers, They May Entertain Of Themselves, Or The World May Conceive Of Them, Have Certainly More Of Mortal Than Divine About Them.

The Life Of A Coquette Is One Constant Lie; And The Only Rule By Which You Can Form Any Correct Judgment Of Them Is That They Are Never What They Seem.

Guilt, On The Contrary, Like A Base Thief, Suspects Every Eye That Beholds Him To Be Privy To His Transgressions, And Every Tongue That Mentions His Name To Be Proclaiming Them.