Let Greeks be Greeks, and women what they are.
Flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone, I here, though there, yet both but one.
Some laborers have hard hands, and old sinners have brawny consciences.
There is no object that we see; no action that we do; no good that we enjoy; no evil that we feel, or fear, but we may make some spiritual advantage of all: and he that makes such improvement is wise, as well as pious.
If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant.
I am obnoxious to each carping tongue/ Who says my hand a needle better fits./ A poet's pen all scorn I should thus wrong/ For such despite they cast on female wits;/ If what I do prove well, it won't advance,/ They'll say it's stolen, or else, it was by chance.