Men are apt to offend ('tis true) where they find most goodness to forgive. - William Congreve

Pious Selinda goes to Pray’rs, If I but ask the Favour;
And yet the tender Fool’s in Tears, When she believes I’ll leave her.Wou’d I were free from Restraint, Or else had Hopes to win her;
Wou’d she cou’d make of me a Saint, Or I of her a Sinner.

Thus in this sad, but oh, too pleasing state! my soul can fix upon nothing but thee; thee it contemplates, admires, adores, nay depends on, trusts on you alone.

But say what you will, 'tis better to be left than never to have been loved. To pass our youth in dull indifference, to refuse the sweets of life because they once must leave us, is as preposterous as to wish to have been born old, because we one day must be old.