How Sweet, How Passing Sweet,

The Pleasure Of Criticizing Takes Away From Us The Pleasure Of Being Moved By Some Very Fine Things.

Some People Pretend They Never Were In Love And Never Wrote Poetry; Two Weaknesses Which They Dare Not Own -- One Of The Heart, The Other Of The Mind.

He Who Can Wait For What He Desires Takes The Course Not To Be Exceedingly Grieved If He Fails Of It; He, On The Contrary, Who Labors After A Thing Too Impatiently Thinks The Success When It Comes Is Not A Recompense Equal To All The Pains He Has Been At About It.

Women Are At Little Trouble To Express What They Do Not Feel; But Men Are Still At Less To Express What They Do Feel.

Life Is Short And Tedious, And Is Wholly Spent In Wishing; We Trust To Find Rest And Enjoyment At Some Future Time, Often At An Age When Our Best Blessings, Youth And Health, Have Already Left Us. When At Last I That Time Has Arrived, It Surprises Us In The Midst Of Fresh Desires; We Have Got No Farther When We Are Attacked By A Fever Which Kills Us; If We Had Been Cured, It Would Only Have Been To Give Us More Time For Other Desires.