Thou Art A Retailer Of Phrases, And

She Once Used Me With That Insolence, That In Revenge I Took Her To Pieces; Sifted Her, And Separated Her Failings; I Studied 'em, And Got 'em By Rote. The Catalogue Was So Large, That I Was Not Without Hopes, One Day Or Other To Hate Her Heartily.

Women Like Flames Have A Destroying Power; Never To Be Quenched Till They Themselves Devour.

A Hungry Wolf At All The Herd Will Run, In Hopes, Through Many, To Make Sure Of One.

If Happiness In Self-content Is Placed, The Wise Are Wretched, And Fools Only Blessed.

Marriage Is Honourable, As You Say; And If So, Wherefore Should Cuckoldom Be A Discredit, Being Deriv'd From So Honourable A Root?