The Truant Fancy Was A Wanderer Ever.

While Childhood, And While Dreams, Producing Childhood, Shall Be Left, Imagination Shall Not Have Spread Her Holy Wings Totally To Fly The Earth.

My Only Books Were Woman's Looks,- And Folly 's All They 've Taught Me.

Satire Does Not Look Pretty Upon A Tombstone.

I Know That A Sweet Child Is The Sweetest Thing In Nature?but The Prettier The Kind Of A Thing Is, The More Desirable It Is That It Should Be Pretty Of Its Kind.

Here Cometh April Again, And As Far As I Can See The World Hath More Fools In It Than Ever.