I Am Always Of The Opinion With

Mr Witwould: "pray, Madam, Do You Pin Up Your Hair With All Your Letters? I Find I Must Keep Copies." Mrs Millamant: "only With Those In Verse.... I Never Pin Up My Hair With Prose."

Love's But The Frailty Of The Mind, When 'tis Not With Ambition Joined; A Sickly Flame, Which If Not Fed Expires; And Feeding, Wastes In Self-consuming Fires.

Would Any Thing But A Madman Complain Of Uncertainty? Uncertainty And Expectation Are Joys Of Life; Security Is An Insipid Thing; And The Overtaking And Possessing Of A Wish Discovers The Folly Of The Chase.

Women Like Flames Have A Destroying Power; Never To Be Quenched Till They Themselves Devour.

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.