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Servile doubt argues an impotence of mind, that says we fear because we dare not meet misfortunes.

Aaron Hill

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Aaron Hill
Age: 64 †
Born: 1685
Born: February 10
Died: 1750
Died: February 8
Essayist
Playwright
Poet
Writer
Misfortunes
Arguing
Dare
Meet
Says
Doubt
Servile
Fear
Argues
Mind
Impotence

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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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Reason gains all people by compelling none.
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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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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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Trust me--with women worth the being won, The softest lover ever best succeeds.
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Let shining Charity adorn your zeal, The noblest impulse generous minds can feel.
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Birth is a shadow. Courage, self-sustained, outlords succession's phlegm, and needs no ancestors.
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Man is the circled oak woman the ivy.
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Mischief and malice grow on the same branch of the tree of evil.
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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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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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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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Union of hearts, not hands, does a marriage make, and sympathy of mind keeps love awake.
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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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Customs form us all, our thoughts, our morals, our most fixed beliefs are consequences of our place of birth.
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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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Shame on those breasts of stone that cannot melt in soft adoption of another's sorrow.
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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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Order, thou eye of action.
Aaron Hill