But It Is Not Reason That Governs

The Public Scandal Is What Constitutes The Offence: Sins Sinned In Secret Are No Sins At All.

The Maturing Process Of Becoming A Writer Is Akin To That Of A Harlot. First You Do It For Love, Then For A Few Friends, And Finally Only For Money.

The Genuine Amphitryon Is The Amphitryon With Whom We Dine.

At Least It's Better To Be Married Than To Be Dead.

Then Worms Shall Try That Long Preserved Virginity, And Your Quaint Honor Turn To Dust, And Into Ashes All My Lust. The Grave's A Fine And Private Place But None, I Think, Do There Embrace.