"Can you support the expense of a husband, hussy, in gaming, drinking and whoring? Have you money enough to carry on the daily quarrels of man and wife about who shall squander most? There are not many husbands and wives, who can bear the charges of plaguing one another in a handsome way."

"Do you think your Mother and I should have liv'd comfortably so long together, if ever we had been married?"

"How the mother is to be pitied who hath handsome daughters! Locks, bolts, bars, and lectures of morality are nothing to them: they break through them all. They have as much pleasure in cheating a father and mother, as in cheating at cards."

"You know, my Dear, I never meddle in matters of Death; I always leave those Affairs to you. Women indeed are bitter bad Judges in these cases, for they are so partial to the Brave that they think every Man handsome who is going to the Camp or the Gallows."

"Over the hills and far away."

"'T is woman that seduces all mankind; By her we first were taught the wheedling arts."

"Through all the Employments of Life Each Neighbour abuses his Brother; Whore and Rogue they call Husband and Wife: All Professions be-rogue one another: The Priest calls the Lawyer a Cheat, The Lawyer be-knaves the Divine: And the Statesman, because he's so great, Thinks his Trade as honest as mine."

"As we live by the Muses, it is but a Gratitude in us to encourage Poetical Merit wherever we find it. The Muses, contrary to all other Ladies, pay no Distinction to Dress, and never partially mistake the Pertness of Embroidery for Wit, nor the Modesty of Want for Dulness. Be the Author who he will, we push his Play as far as it will go. So (though you are in Want) I wish you success heartily."

"If Poverty be a Title to Poetry, I am sure nobody can dispute mine. I own myself of the Company of Beggars; and I make one at their Weekly Festivals at St. Giles's. I have a small Yearly Salary for my Catches, and am welcome to a Dinner there whenever I please, which is more than most Poets can say."

"Give me, kind Heaven, a private station, A mind serene for contemplation: Title and profit I resign; The post of honour shall be mine."

"By outward show let's not be cheated; An ass should like an ass be treated."

"From wine what sudden friendship springs!"

"That raven on yon left-hand oak (Curse on his ill-betiding croak!) Bodes me no good."

"While there is life there 's hope, he cried."

"Is there no hope? the sick man said; The silent doctor shook his head."

"Lest men suspect your tale untrue, Keep probability in view."

"Love, then, hath every bliss in store; 'Tis friendship, and 'tis something more. Each other every wish they give; Not to know love is not to live."

"And when a lady's in the case, You know all other things give place."

"I hate the man who builds his name On ruins of another's fame. Thus prudes, by characters o'erthrown, Imagine that they raise their own. Thus Scribblers, covetous of praise, Think slander can transplant the bays."

"Envy is a kind of praise."

"Those who in quarrels intepose Must often wipe a bloody nose."

"In every age and clime we see Two of a trade can never agree."

"A Wolf eats sheep but now and then; Ten thousands are devour'd by men. An open foe may prove a curse, but a pretend friend is worse."

"In beauty faults conspicuous grow; The smallest speck is seen on snow."

"No author ever spar'd a brother."

"When we risk no contradiction, It prompts the tongue to deal in fiction."

"Where yet was ever found a mother Who'd give her booby for another?"

"Whence thy learning? Hath thy toil O'er books consumed the midnight oil?"

"Remote from cities liv'd a swain, Unvex'd with all the cares of gain; His head was silver'd o'er with age, And long experience made him sage."

"Adieu, she cried, and waved her lily hand."

"All in the Downs the fleet was moor'd."

"Life is a jest; and all things show it. I thought so once; and now I know it."

"No retreat. No retreat. They must conquer or die who’ve no retreat."

"My lodging is on the cold ground, And hard, very hard, is my fare, But that which grieves me more Is the coldness of my dear."

"So comes a reckoning when the banquet's o'er,— The dreadful reckoning, and men smile no more."

"'Twas when the seas were roaring With hollow blasts of wind, A damsel lay deploring, All on a rock reclined."

"Nothing in the work of Addison is more suggestive of the just and well balanced character of his genius than his papers on women."

"He dismissed his physicians, and with them all hopes of life. But with his hopes of life he dismissed not his concern for the living, but sent for a youth nearly related and finely accomplished, but not above being the better for good impressions from a dying friend. He came; but, life now glimmering in the socket, the dying friend was silent. After a decent and proper pause, the youth said, "Dear sir, you sent for me: I believe and I hope that you have some commands; I shall hold them most sacred." May distant ages not only hear, but feel, the reply! Forcibly grasping the youth's hand, he softly said, "See in what peace a Christian can die!" He spoke with difficulty and soon expired. Through grace Divine, how great is man!"

"The first English Writer who compos'd a regular Tragedy and infus'd a Spirit of Elegance thro' every Part of it, was the illustrious Mr. Addison. His CATO is a Master-piece both with regard to the Diction, and to the Beauty and Harmony of the Numbers. The Character of Cato is, in my Opinion, vastly superiour to that of Cornelia in the POMPEY of Corneille: For Cato is great without any Thing like Fustian, and Cornelia, who besides is not a necessary Character, tends sometimes to bombast. Mr. Addisons Cato appears to me the greatest Character that was ever brought upon any Stage, but then the rest of them don't correspond to the Dignity of it: And this dramatic Piece so excellently well writ, is disfigur'd by a dull Love Plot, which spreads a certain Languor over the whole, that quite murders it."

"The prose of Whig and Tory polemics contained a larger proportion of stuff destined to endure: Swift and Addison,as journalists spoke to the their day but have been overheard by the ages."

"If in the stage I seek to soothe my care, I meet his soul which breathes in Cato there; If pensive to the rural shades I rove, His shape o'ertakes me in the lonely grove; 'Twas there of just and good he reasoned strong, Cleared some great truth, or raised some serious song: There patient showed us the wise course to steer, A candid censor, and a friend severe; There taught us how to live; and (oh, too high The price for knowledge!) taught us how to die."

"Just men, by whom impartial laws were given; And saints who taught and led the way to heaven. Ne'er to these chambers, where the mighty rest, Since their foundation came a nobler guest; Nor e’er was to the bowers of bliss conveyed A fairer spirit or more welcome shade."

"As a man, he may not have deserved the adoration which he received from those who, bewitched by his fascinating society, and indebted for all the comforts of life to his generous and delicate friendship, worshipped him nightly, in his favourite temple at Button’s. But, after full inquiry and impartial reflection, we have long been convinced that he deserved as much love and esteem as can be justly claimed by any of our infirm and erring race. Some blemishes may undoubtedly be detected in his character; but the more carefully it is examined, the more it will appear, to use the phrase of the old anatomists, sound in the noble parts, free from all taint of perfidy, of cowardice, of cruelty, of ingratitude, of envy. Men may easily be named, in whom some particular good disposition has been more conspicuous than in Addison. But the just harmony of qualities, the exact temper between the stern and the humane virtues, the habitual observance of every law, not only of moral rectitude, but of moral grace and dignity, distinguish him from all men who have been tried by equally strong temptations, and about whose conduct we possess equally full information."

"Whoever wishes to attain an English style, familiar, but not coarse, and elegant, but not ostentatious, must give his days and nights to the volumes of Addison."

"In the formal treatises Addison has three subjects: religion, classical literature, and Whig politics. His greatest delight in literature was the study of Latin poetry; and he was himself a most skilful writer of Latin verse—he is indeed more a poet in Latin than in English."

"The last place in London to which I will ask the reader to accompany me with Addison is one which has changed but little since his time, and has been of late very much in all our thoughts—I mean Westminster Abbey. He tells us that in his serious and pensive moods he very often walked there by himself, where the gloominess of the place, with the solemnity of the building, and the condition of the people who lie in it, filled his mind with a melancholy, or rather a thoughtfulness, that was not unpleasing."

"In our way to the Club to-night, when I regretted that Goldsmith would, upon every occasion, endeavour to shine, by which he often exposed himself; Mr. Langton observed, that he was not like Addison, who was content with the fame of his writings, and did not aim also at excellency in conversation, for which he found himself unfit; and that he said to a lady, who complained of his having talked little in company, "Madam, I have but nine-pence in ready money, but I can draw for a thousand pounds"."

"The union of the Word and the Mind produces that mystery which is called Life... Learn deeply of the Mind and its mystery, for therein lies the secret of immortality."

"The chief ingredients in the composition of those qualities that gain esteem and praise, are good nature, truth, good sense, and good breeding."