Writing, madam, is a mechanic part of wit. A gentleman should never…

When love grows diseased, the best thing we can do is to put it to a violent death. I cannot endure the torture of a lingering and consumptive passion.

I know all beyond High Park's a desert to you.

Next to the coming to a good understanding with a new mistress, I love a quarrel with an old one.

This book for men alone is meant, Book-worms, or bibliophiles anent, Of solid mind, of serious bent, On curious, hidden books intent, On odd research and learning.

No book exists, however bad, From which some good may not be had.

When I survey the bright Celestial sphere; So rich with jewels hung, that Night Doth like an Ethiop bride appear:My soul her wings doth spread And heavenward flies, Th' Almighty's mysteries to read