He Is A Hypocrite Who Professes What

Refinement Creates Beauty Everywhere. It Is The Grossness Of The Spectator That Discovers Anything Like Grossness In The Object.

Pure Good Soon Grows Insipid, Wants Variety And Spirit. Pain Is A Bittersweet, Which Never Surfeits. Love Turns, With A Little Indulgence, To Indifference Or Disgust. Hatred Alone Is Immortal.

Vice Is Man's Nature: Virtue Is A Habit--or A Mask.

Power Is Pleasure; And Pleasure Sweetens Pain.

Actors Are The Only Honest Hypocrites.