No Author Ever Spar'd A

Variety's The Source Of Joy Below, From Whence Still Fresh-revolving Pleasures Flow, In Books And Love The Mind One End Pursues, And Only Change The Expiring Flames Renews.

What Then In Love Can Woman Do? If We Grow Fond They Shun Us. And When We Fly Them, They Pursue: But Leave Us When They've Won Us.

One Common Fate We Both Must Prove; You Die With Envy, I With Love.

The Fly That Sips Treacle Is Lost In The Sweets.

Lions, Wolves, And Vultures Don't Live Together In Herds, Droves Or Flocks. Of All Animals Of Prey, Man Is The Only Sociable One. Every One Of Us Preys Upon His Neighbor, And Yet We Herd Together.