If We Hope For What We Are

Every Wife Ought To Answer For Her Man. If The Husband Be Engaged In A Seditious Club, Or Drinks Mysterious Healths, Or Be Frugal Of His Candles On A Rejoicing Night, Let Her Look To Him And Keep Him Out Of Harm's Way; Or The World Will Be Apt To Say, She Has A Mind To Be A Widow Before Her Time. She Ought, In Such Cases, To Exert The Authority Of The Curtain Lecture; And If She Finds Him Of A Rebellious Disposition, To Tame Him, As They Do Birds Of Prey, By Dinning Him In The Ears All Night Long.

The Sense Of Honour Is Of So Fine And Delicate A Nature, That It Is Only To Be Met With In Minds Which Are Naturally Noble, Or In Such As Have Been Cultivated By Good Examples, Or A Refined Education.

What An Absurd Thing It Is To Pass Over All The Valuable Parts Of A Man, And Fix Our Attention On His Infirmities.

Words, When Well Chosen, Have So Great A Force In Them, That A Description Often Gives Us More Lively Ideas Than The Sight Of Things Themselves.

That Fine Part Of Our Construction, The Eye, Seems As Much The Receptacle And Seat Of Our Passions As The Mind Itself; And At Least It Is The Outward Portal To Introduce Them To The House Within, Or Rather The Common Thoroughfare To Let Our Affections Pass In And Out.