To Him No High, No Low, No

Wit And Judgment Often Are At Strife.

The Good Must Merit God's Peculiar Care; But Who But God Can Tell Us Who They Are?

In Lazy Apathy Let Stoics Boast, Their Virtue Fix'd: 't Is Fix'd As In A Frost; Contracted All, Retiring To The Breast; But Strength Of Mind Is Exercise, Not Rest.

Wit Is The Lowest Form Of Humor.

A Perfect Woman's But A Softer Man.