We Are Rarely Wrong When We Act

And This Is Woman's Fate: All Her Affections Are Called Into Life By Winning Flatteries, And Then Thrown Back Upon Themselves To Perish; And Her Heart, Her Trusting Heart, Filled With Weak Tenderness, Is Left To Bleed Or Break!

Conscience, Like A Child, Is Soon Lulled To Sleep.

English People ... Never Speak, Excepting In Cases Of Fire Or Murder, Unless They Are Introduced.

No Hour Arrives So Soon As The One We Dread.

A Friend Is Never Alarmed For Us In The Right Place.