Power Is Not Sufficient Evidence

Solitude Is The Surest Nurse Of All Prurient Passions, And A Girl In The Hurry Of Preparation, Or Tumult Of Gaiety, Has Neither Inclination Nor Leisure To Let Tender Expressions Soften Or Sink Into Her Heart. The Ball, The Show, Are Not The Dangerous Places: No, 'tis The Private Friend, The Kind Consoler, The Companion Of The Easy Vacant Hour, Whose Compliance With Her Opinions Can Flatter Her Vanity, And Whose Conversation Can Sooth, Without Ever Stretching Her Mind, That Is The Lover To Be Feared: He Who Buzzes In Her Ear At Court, Or At The Opera, Must Be Contented To Buzz In Vain.

Those Who Have Past Much Of Their Lives In This Great City, Look Upon Its Opulence And Its Multitudes, Its Extent And Variety, With Cold Indifference; But An Inhabitant Of The Remoter Parts Of The Kingdom Is Immediately Distinguished By A Kind Of Dissipated Curiosity, A Busy Endeavour To Divide His Attention Amongst A Thousand Objects, And A Wild Confusion Of Astonishment And Alarm.

Reason Elevates Our Thoughts As High As The Stars, And Leads Us Through The Vast Space Of This Mighty Fabric; Yet It Comes Far Short Of The Real Extent Of Our Corporeal Being.

Unconstraint Is The Grace Of Conversation.

The Future Is Bought With The Present.