| C.N. Douglas, comp. Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical. 1917. | | | | Suckling |
| | | | But O, she dances such a way! |
| No sun upon an Easter-day, |
| Is half so fine a sight. |
| 1 |
| | Her face is like the Milky Way i’ the sky,— |
| A meeting of gentle lights without a name. |
| 2 |
| | Out upon it! I have lov’d |
| Three whole days together; |
| And am like to love three more, |
| If it prove fair weather. |
| 3 |
| | Your gift is princely, but it comes too late, |
| And falls like sunbeams on a blasted blossom. |
| 4 |
| A quiet mediocrity is still to be preferred before a troubled superfluity. | 5 |
| Abruptness is an eloquence in parting, when spinning out the time is but the weaving of new sorrow. | 6 |
| Her feet beneath her petticoat like little mice stole in and out, as if they feared the light. | 7 |
| Joy never feasts so high as when the first course is of misery. | 8 |
| Opportunity, to statesmen, is as the just degree of heat to chemists; it perfects all the work. | 9 |
| Our sins, like to our shadows when our day is in its glory, scarce appeared; towards our evening how great and monstrous they are! | 10 |
| The prince of darkness is a gentleman. | 11 |
| Thou dwarf dressed up in giant’s clothes, that showest far off still greater than thou art. | 12 | | |
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