The weather is not a safe topic of discourse; your company may be hippish; nor is health; your associate may be a hypochondriac; nor is money; you may be suspected as a borrower.—Zimmerman.
When all is done, human life is at the best but like a froward child, that must be played with and humoured a little to keep it quiet till it falls asleep, and then the care is over.—Sir W. Temple.
Time runs on, and when youth and beauty vanish, a fine lady who had never entertained a thought into which an admirer did not enter, finds in herself a lamentable void.
The poorest of all family goods are indolent females. If a wife knows nothing of domestic duties beyond the parlour or the boudoir, she is a dangerous partner in these times of pecuniary uncertainty.
Friendship, love, and piety, ought to be handled with a sort of mysterious secrecy; they ought to be spoken of only in the rare moments of perfect confidence—to be mutually understood in silence. Many things are too delicate to be thought—many more to be spoken.
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