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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.

Aaron Hill

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Aaron Hill
Age: 64 †
Born: 1685
Born: February 10
Died: 1750
Died: February 8
Essayist
Playwright
Poet
Writer
Thus
Loses
Head
Sure
Idea
Ideas
Heaviness
Men
Exaggerate
Equilibrium

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Joys, which we do not know, we do not wish.
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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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Birth is a shadow. Courage, self-sustained, outlords succession's phlegm, and needs no ancestors.
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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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Oh, treacherous night thou lendest thy ready veil to every treason, and teeming mischief's beneath thy shade.
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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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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.
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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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Trust me--with women worth the being won, The softest lover ever best succeeds.
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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.
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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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O marriage! marriage! what a curse is thine, Where hands alone consent and hearts abhor.
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Mischief and malice grow on the same branch of the tree of evil.
Aaron Hill
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Law that shocks equity is reason's murderer.
Aaron Hill
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Let shining Charity adorn your zeal, The noblest impulse generous minds can feel.
Aaron Hill
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Man is the circled oak woman the ivy.
Aaron Hill
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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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Deceit is the false road to happiness and all the joys we travel through to vice, like fairy banquets, vanish when we touch them.
Aaron Hill
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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.
Aaron Hill
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She who means no mischief does it all.
Aaron Hill