Whilst I Yet Live, Let Me Not

Quick Sensitivity Is Inseperable From A Ready Understanding.

There Is Not A More Melancholy Object Than A Man Who Has His Head Turned With Religious Enthusiasm.

Charity Is A Virtue Of The Heart, And Not Of The Hands.

Good Nature Is More Agreeable In Conversation Than Wit And Gives A Certain Air To The Countenance Which Is More Amiable Than Beauty.

The World Is So Full Of Ill-nature That I Have Lampoons Sent Me By People Who Cannot Spell, And Satires Composed By Those Who Scarce Know How To Write.