O Fie, Miss, You Must Not Kiss

There Is In True Beauty, As In Courage, Somewhat Which Narrow Souls Cannot Dare To Admire.

A Woman Only Obliges A Man To Secrecy, That She May Have The Pleasure Of Telling Herself.

Love's But The Frailty Of The Mind, When 'tis Not With Ambition Joined; A Sickly Flame, Which If Not Fed Expires; And Feeding, Wastes In Self-consuming Fires.

I Nauseate Walking; 'tis A Country Diversion, I Loathe The Country.

Delay Not Till Tomorrow To Be Wise; Tomorrow's Sun To Thee May Neve Rise.