Nature Does Nothing Without Purpose Or Uselessly.

Nature Has Laid Out All Her Art In Beautifying The Face; She Has Touched It With Vermilion, Planted In It A Double Row Of Ivory, Made It The Seat Of Smiles And Blushes, Lighted It Up And Enlivened It With The Brightness Of The Eyes, Hung It On Each Side With Curious Organs Of Sense, Given It Airs And Graces That Cannot Be Described, And Surrounded It With Such A Flowing Shade Of Hair As Sets All Its Beauties In The Most Agreeable Light.

In The Common Run Of Mankind, For One That Is Wise And Good You Find Ten Of A Contrary Character.

The Fear Of Death Often Proves Mortal.

There Is No Defence Against Reproach, But Obscurity; It Is A Kind Of Concomitant To Greatness, As Satires And Invectives Were An Essential Part Of A Roman Triumph.

To This End, Nothing Is To Be More Carefully Consulted Than Plainness. In A Lady's Attire This Is The Single Excellence; For To Be What Some People Call Fine, Is The Same Vice, In That Case, As To Be Florid Is In Writing Or Speaking.