If ever wife was happy in a man, compare with me, ye women if you can.
Flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone, I here, though there, yet both but one.
If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant.
Sweet words are like honey, a little may refresh, but too much gluts the stomach.
I am obnoxious to each carping tongue who says my hand a needle better fits.
Let Greeks be Greeks, and women what they are.