Women Like Flames Have A Destroying Power;

I Always Take Blushing Either For A Sign Of Guilt, Or Of Ill Breeding.

Guilt Is Ever At A Loss, And Confusion Waits Upon It; When Innocence And Bold Truth Are Always Ready For Expression.

A Little Scorn Is Alluring.

She Once Used Me With That Insolence, That In Revenge I Took Her To Pieces; Sifted Her, And Separated Her Failings; I Studied 'em, And Got 'em By Rote. The Catalogue Was So Large, That I Was Not Without Hopes, One Day Or Other To Hate Her Heartily.

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