Henry Fielding

The hounds all join in glorious cry, The huntsman winds his horn And a-hunting we will go.

O more than Gothic ignorance.

Guilt hath very quick ears to an accusation.

Guilt, on the contrary, like a base thief, suspects every eye that beholds him to be privy to his transgressions, and every tongue that mentions his name to be proclaiming them.

To say the truth, every physician almost hath his favourite disease, to which he ascribes all the victories obtained over human nature.

. . . when the effects of female jealousy do not appear openly in their proper colours of rage and fury, we may suspect that mischievous passion to be at work privately, and attempting to undermine, what it doth not attack above-ground.

He in a few minutes ravished this fair creature, or at least would have ravished her, if she had not, by a timely compliance, prevented him.

The prudence of the best heads is often defeated by the tenderness of the best hearts.

Guilt has very quick ears to an accusation.

When I'm not thanked at all, I'm thanked enough, I've done my duty, and I've done no more.

One fool at least in every married couple.

We are as liable to be corrupted by books, as by companions.

Commend a fool for his wit, or a rogue for his honesty and he will receive you into his favor.

A truly elegant taste is generally accompanied with excellency of heart.

A rich man without charity is a rogue and perhaps it would be no difficult matter to prove that he is also a fool.

Dancing begets warmth, which is the parent of wantonness.

Great joy, especially after a sudden change of circumstances, is apt to be silent, and dwells rather in the heart than on the tongue.

Never trust the man who hath reason to suspect that you know he hath injured you.

Where the law ends tyranny begins.

What's vice today may be virtue, tomorrow.

When widows exclaim loudly against second marriages, I would always lay a wager than the man, If not the wedding day, is absolutely fixed on.

Composed that monstrous animal a husband and wife.

But pray, Mr Wild, why bitch

Wine is a turncoat first a friend and then an enemy.

LOVE A word properly applied to our delight in particular kinds of food sometimes metaphorically spoken of the favorite objects of all our appetites.