Aaron Hill Quotes
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Deceit is the false road to happiness; and all the joys we travel through to vice, like fairy banquets, vanish when we touch them.
Letters, from absent friends, extinguish fear, Unite division, and draw distance near; Their magic force each silent wish conveys, And wafts embodied though, a thousand ways: Could souls to bodies write, death's pow'r were mean, For minds could then meet minds with heav'n between.
Tender-handed stroke a nettle, And it stings you for your pains; Grasp it like a man of mettle, And it soft as silk remains. 'Tis the same with common natures: Use 'em kindly, they rebel; But be rough as nutmeg-graters, And the rogues obey you well.
The man who pauses on the paths of treason, Halts on a quicksand, the first step engulfs him.
Let never man be bold enough to say, Thus, and no farther shall my passion stray: The first crime, past, compels us into more, And guilt grows fate, that was but choice, before.
The man with but one idea in his head is sure to exaggerate that to top-heaviness, and thus he loses his equilibrium.
First, then, a woman will, or won't, - depend on't; If she will do't, she will; and there's an end on't. But, if she won't, since safe and sound your trust is, Fear is affront: and jealousy injustice.