How delicate her feet who shuns the ground, Stepping a-tiptoe on the heads of men.
Who ne'er knew salt, or heard the billows roar.
The other day, I was so desperate for a beer, I snuck into the football stadium and ate the dirt under the bleachers.
One rogue leads another.
Even were sleep is concerned, too much is a bad thing.
There is nothing more dread and more shameless than a woman who plans such deeds in her heart as the foul deed which she plotted when she contrived her husband's murder.