Come Away; Poverty's Catching.

Love Ceases To Be A Pleasure, When It Ceases To Be A Secret.

A Poet Is A Painter In His Way, He Draws To The Life, But In Another Kind; We Draw The Nobler Part, The Soul And The Mind; The Pictures Of The Pen Shall Outlast Those Of The Pencil, And Even Worlds Themselves.

Affectation Hath Always Had A Greater Share Both In The Action And Discourse Of Men Than Truth And Judgment Have.

Women In London Are Like The Rich Silks; They Are Out Of Fashion A Great While Before They Wear Out.

You May Make Love In Dancing As Well As Sitting.