Music has charms to soothe the savage breast, to soften rocks or bend a knotted oak.
Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.
One of love’s April-fools.
Who pleases one against his will.
Madam, do you pin up your hair with all your letters? Only with those in verse, Mr Witwoud. I never pin up my hair with prose.
Nobody knowshow towrite letters; and yet onehas ’em, one does not know why.öThey serve one to pin up one’s hair.
No mask like open truth to cover lies, As to go naked is the best disguise.
Music hath charm to soothe a savage breast, To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.
Blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds, and though a late, a sure reward succeeds.
Men are apt to offend where they find most goodness to forgive.
If there’s delight in love, ’tis when I see That heart, which others bleed
for, bleed for me.