Pity Those Whom Nature Abuses, Never Those

To Smile At The Jest Which Plants A Thorn In Another's Breast Is To Become A Principal In The Mischief.

Sheer Necessity,-the Proper Parent Of An Art So Nearly Allied To Invention.

Ay, Ay, The Best Terms Will Grow Obsolete: Damns Have Had Their Day.

I Hate To See Prudence Clinging To The Green Suckers Of Youth; 'tis Like Ivy Round A Sapling, And Spoils The Growth Of The Tree.

An Unforgiving Eye, And A Damned Disinheriting Countenance!