Love Is Not A Volunteer Thing.

The Eye Is The Casement At Which The Heart Generally Looks Out. Many A Woman Who Will Not Show Herself At The Door, Has Tipt The Sly, The Intelligible Wink From The Window.

Of What Violences, Murders, Depredations, Have Not The Epic Poets, From All Antiquity, Been The Occasion, By Propagating False Honor, False Glory, And False Religion?

I Know Not My Own Heart If It Be Not Absolutely Free.

There Cannot Be Any Great Happiness In The Married Life Except Each In Turn Give Up His Or Her Own Humors And Lesser Inclinations.

I Am Forced, As I Have Often Said, To Try To Make Myself Laugh, That I May Not Cry: For One Or Other I Must Do.