Come Away; Poverty's Catching.

Come Away; Poverty's Catching.

'twas But A Dream, Yet By My Heart I Knew, Which Still Was Panting, Part Of It Was True: Oh How I Strove The Rest To Have Believed; Ashamed And Angry To Be Undeceived!

I Value Fame As Much As If I Had Been Born A Hero.

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

That Perfect Tranquillity Of Life, Which Is Nowhere To Be Found But In Retreat, A Faithful Friend And A Good Library.