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Youth is ever apt to judge in haste, and lose the medium in the wild extreme.

Aaron Hill

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Aaron Hill
Age: 64 †
Born: 1685
Born: February 10
Died: 1750
Died: February 8
Essayist
Playwright
Poet
Writer
Ever
Extreme
Extremes
Wild
Judge
Judging
Youth
Haste
Lose
Medium
Loses
Mediums

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Order, thou eye of action.
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Law that shocks equity is reason's murderer.
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The man who pauses on the paths of treason, Halts on a quicksand, the first step engulfs him.
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Customs form us all, our thoughts, our morals, our most fixed beliefs are consequences of our place of birth.
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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.
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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.
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Man is the circled oak woman the ivy.
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Let shining Charity adorn your zeal, The noblest impulse generous minds can feel.
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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.
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When Christ at Cana's feast by pow'r divine, Inspir'd cold water, with the warmth of wine, See! cry'd they while, in red'ning tide, it gush'd, The bashful stream hath seen its God and blush'd.
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Birth is a shadow. Courage, self-sustained, outlords succession's phlegm, and needs no ancestors.
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There is no merit where there is no trial and till experience stamps the mark of strength, cowards may pass for heroes, and faith for falsehood.
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Trust me--with women worth the being won, The softest lover ever best succeeds.
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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.
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Shame on those breasts of stone that cannot melt in soft adoption of another's sorrow.
Aaron Hill
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Oh, treacherous night thou lendest thy ready veil to every treason, and teeming mischief's beneath thy shade.
Aaron Hill
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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.
Aaron Hill
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O marriage! marriage! what a curse is thine, Where hands alone consent and hearts abhor.
Aaron Hill
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Reason gains all people by compelling none.
Aaron Hill
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Shun fear, it is the ague of the soul! a passion man created for himself--for sure that cramp of nature could not dwell in the warm realms of glory.
Aaron Hill