One Woman Reads Another's Character

Where Dost Thou Careless Lie, Buried In Ease And Sloth? Knowledge That Sleeps, Doth Die; And This Security, It Is The Common Moth, That Eats On Wits And Arts, And Oft Destroys Them Both.

A Valiant Man Ought Not To Undergo, Or Tempt A Danger, But Worthily, And By Selected Ways, He Undertakes With Reason, Not By Chance. His Valor Is The Salt T' His Other Virtues, They're All Unseason'd Without It.

In Small Proportions We Just Beauties See; And In Short Measures, Life May Perfect Be.

What Excellent Fools Religion Makes Of Men.

The Soul Of Man Is Infinite In What It Covets.