Colley Cibber

Thou strange piece of wild nature!

Oh! How many torments lie in the small circle of a wedding ring.

You know, one had as good be out of the world, as out of the fashion.

Tea! thou soft, thou sober, sage, and venerable liquid,... thou female tongue-running, smile-smoothing, heart-opening, wind-tippling cordial, to whose glorious insipidity I owe the happiest moment of my life, let me fall prostrate.

It takes time for the absent to assume their true shape in our thoughts. After death they take on a firmer outline and then cease to change.

Prithee don't screw your wit beyond the compass of good manners.