Wit consists in assembling, and putting together with quickness, ideas in which can be found resemblance and congruity, by which to make up pleasant pictures and agreeable visions in the fancy.—­Locke.

There is many a man hath more hair than wit.—­Shakespeare.

You beat your pate, and fancy wit will come;
Knock as you please, there’s nobody at home. 
—­Pope.

Wit does not take the place of knowledge.—­VAUVENARGUES.

To place wit before good sense is to place the superfluous before the necessary.—­M.  De MONTLOSIER.

Woman.—­Honor to women! they twine and weave the roses of heaven into the life of man; it is they that unite us in the fascinating bonds of love; and, concealed in the modest veil of the graces, they cherish carefully the external fire of delicate feeling with holy hands.  —­Schiller.

The world was sad!—­the garden was a wild! 
And man, the hermit, sigh’d—­till woman smiled. 
—­Campbell.

A young man rarely gets a better vision of himself than that which is reflected from a true woman’s eyes; for God himself sits behind them.  —­J.G.  Holland.

O, if the loving, closed heart of a good woman should open before a man, how much controlled tenderness, how many veiled sacrifices and dumb virtues, would he see reposing therein?—­Richter.

Seek to be good, but aim not to be great;
A woman’s noblest station is retreat;
Her fairest virtues fly from public sight;
Domestic worth,—­that shuns too strong a light. 

                                    —­Lord LYTTLETON.

Nature sent women into the world with this bridal dower of love, for this reason, that they might be, what their destination is, mothers, and love children, to whom sacrifices must ever be offered and from whom none are to be obtained.—­Richter.

A woman’s whole life is a history of the affections.  The heart is her world; it is there her ambition strives for empire; it is there her avarice seeks for hidden treasures.  She sends forth her sympathies on adventure, she embarks her whole soul in the traffic of affection; and, if shipwrecked, her case is hopeless, for it is a bankruptcy of the heart.—­Washington Irving.

A woman impudent and mannish grown
Is not more loath’d than an effeminate man. 
—­Shakespeare.

What’s a table richly spread,
Without a woman at its head? 
—­T.  Wharton.

O woman! in our hours of ease,
Uncertain, coy, and hard to please,
And variable as the shade
By the light quivering aspen made;
When pain and anguish wring the brow,
A ministering angel thou! 

                                    —­Walter Scott.

The modest virgin, the prudent wife, or the careful matron, are much more serviceable in life, than petticoated philosophers, blustering heroines, or virago queens.  She who makes her husband and her children happy, who reclaims the one from vice, and trains up the other to virtue, is a much greater character than ladies described in romance, whose whole occupation is to murder mankind with shafts from their quiver or their eyes.—­Goldsmith.