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• The maid who modestly conceals Her beauties, while she hides, reveal
  Give but a glimpse, and fancy draws Whate'er the Grecian Venus was....
• Can't I another's face commend, And to her virtues be a friend, But instantly your forehead lowers, As if her merit lessen'd yours?
  -- Edward Moore (1712-1757) -- The Farmer, the Spaniel, and the Cat, Fable ix...
• Time still, as he flies, brings increase to her truth, And gives to her mind what he steals from her youth.
  -- Edward Moore (1712-1757) -- The Happy Marriage...
• When a writer has done the best that he can do, he should then withdraw from the book-writing business and take up an honest trade like shoe repair, cattle stealing, or screwworm management.
  -- Edward Abbey...
• T is now the summer of your youth. Time has not cropt the roses from your cheek, though sorrow long has washed them.
  -- Edward Moore (1712-1757) -- The Gamester, Act iii, Sc. 4...
• This is the story of the bee Whose sex is very hard to see You cannot tell the he from the she But she can tell
  and so can he The little bee is never still She has no time to take the pill And that is why, in times like these There are so many sons of bees....
• Of Law there can be no less acknowledged than that her seat is the bosom of God, her voice the harmony of the world.
  All things in heaven and earth do her homage,--the very least as feeling her care, and the greatest as not exempted from her power....