You may build castles in the air, and fume, and fret, and grow thin and lean, and pale and ugly, if you please. But I tell you, no man worth having is true to his wife, or can be true to his wife, or ever was, or will be so.

Virtue is its own reward. There's a pleasure in doing good which sufficiently pays itself.

Love's like virtue, its own reward.

Once a woman has given you her heart, you can never get rid of the rest of her.

True virtue, wheresoever it moves, still carries an intrinsic worth about it.

Tho marriage be a lottery in which there are a wondrous many blanks, yet there is one inestimable lot in which the only heaven on earth is written.

Love, like virtue, is its own reward.