And Seem To Walk On Wings, And

The Dull Flat Falsehood Serves For Policy, And In The Cunning, Truth's Itself A Lie.

I Lose My Patience, And I Own It Too, When Works Are Censur'd, Not As Bad But New; While If Our Elders Break All Reason's Laws, These Fools Demand Not Pardon But Applause.

The People's Voice Is Odd, It Is, And It Is Not, The Voice Of God.

The Only Time You Run Out Of Chances Is When You Stop Taking Them

Heaven Gave To Woman The Peculiar Grace To Spin, To Weep, And Cully Human Race.