A Little Scorn Is Alluring.

There Are Times When Sense May Be Unseasonable, As Well As Truth.

I Always Take Blushing Either For A Sign Of Guilt, Or Of Ill Breeding.

Thus In This Sad, But Oh, Too Pleasing State! My Soul Can Fix Upon Nothing But Thee; Thee It Contemplates, Admires, Adores, Nay Depends On, Trusts On You Alone.

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

To Find A Young Fellow That Is Neither A Wit In His Own Eye, Nor A Fool In The Eye Of The World, Is A Very Hard Task.