Had I a heart for falsehood framed, I ne'er could injure you. - Richard Brinsley Sheridan

Ah! Master Rowley, when an old bachelor marries a young wife, he deserves — no — the crime carries its punishment along with it.

Rosy. He says he’ll undertake to cure you for three thousand pounds. Mrs. Bri. Three thousand pounds! three thousand halters! — No, lovee, you shall never submit to such impositions; die at once, and be a customer to none of them. Just. I won’t die, Bridget — I don’t like death.

There is not a passion so strongly rooted in the human heart as envy.