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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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Aaron Hill
Age: 64 †
Born: 1685
Born: February 10
Died: 1750
Died: February 8
Essayist
Playwright
Poet
Writer
Stones
Shame
Sorrow
Tears
Melt
Another
Adoption
Cannot
Breasts
Soft
Stone

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Mischief and malice grow on the same branch of the tree of evil.
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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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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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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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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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Joys, which we do not know, we do not wish.
Aaron Hill
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Art, however innocent, looks like deceiving.
Aaron Hill
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Trust me--with women worth the being won, The softest lover ever best succeeds.
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.
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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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Servile doubt argues an impotence of mind, that says we fear because we dare not meet misfortunes.
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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.
Aaron Hill
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The man who pauses on the paths of treason, Halts on a quicksand, the first step engulfs him.
Aaron Hill
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Man is the circled oak woman the ivy.
Aaron Hill
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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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Law that shocks equity is reason's murderer.
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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Union of hearts, not hands, does a marriage make, and sympathy of mind keeps love awake.
Aaron Hill
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She who means no mischief does it all.
Aaron Hill