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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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Aaron Hill
Age: 64 †
Born: 1685
Born: February 10
Died: 1750
Died: February 8
Essayist
Playwright
Poet
Writer
Marriage
Alone
Hands
Abhor
Heart
Matrimony
Thine
Consent
Curse
Hearts

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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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The man who pauses on the paths of treason, Halts on a quicksand, the first step engulfs him.
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Order, thou eye of action.
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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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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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Reason gains all people by compelling none.
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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.
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Shame on those breasts of stone that cannot melt in soft adoption of another's sorrow.
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The man with but one idea in his head is sure to exaggerate that to top-heaviness, and thus he loses his equilibrium.
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Joys, which we do not know, we do not wish.
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Trust me--with women worth the being won, The softest lover ever best succeeds.
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Law that shocks equity is reason's murderer.
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Mischief and malice grow on the same branch of the tree of evil.
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Hide not thy tears weep boldly, and be proud to give the flowing virtue manly way it is nature's mark to know an honest heart by.
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Youth is ever apt to judge in haste, and lose the medium in the wild extreme.
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She who means no mischief does it all.
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Let shining Charity adorn your zeal, The noblest impulse generous minds can feel.
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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.
Aaron Hill
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Oh, treacherous night thou lendest thy ready veil to every treason, and teeming mischief's beneath thy shade.
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Courage is poorly housed that dwells in numbers the lion never counts the herd that are about him, nor weighs how many flocks he has to scatter.
Aaron Hill