The Soft Complaining Flute, In Dying Notes,

Pleasure Never Comes Sincere To Man; But Lent By Heaven Upon Hard Usury.

We Find Few Historians Who Have Been Diligent Enough In Their Search For Truth; It Is Their Common Method To Take On Trust What They Help Distribute To The Public; By Which Means A Falsehood Once Received From A Famed Writer Becomes Traditional To Posterity.

The Poorest Of The Sex Have Still An Itch To Know Their Fortunes, Equal To The Rich. The Dairy-maid Inquires, If She Shall Take The Trusty Tailor, And The Cook Forsake.

So Over Violent, Or Over Civil That Every Man With Him Was God Or Devil.

There Is A Pleasure In Being Mad, Which None But Madmen Know.