One Minute Gives Invention To

O, She Is The Antidote To Desire.

Love's But A Frailty Of The Mind, When 'tis Not With Ambition Joined.

Come, Come, Leave Business To Idlers, And Wisdom To Fools: They Have Need Of 'em: Wit Be My Faculty, And Pleasure My Occupation, And Let Father Time Shake His Glass.

I Know A Lady That Loves To Talk So Incessantly, She Won't Give An Echo Fair Play; She Has That Everlasting Rotation Of Tongue That An Echo Must Wait Till She Dies Before It Can Catch Her Last Words!

Words Are The Weak Support Of Cold Indifference; Love Has No Language To Be Heard.