Music has charms to soothe a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak. I've read that things inanimate have moved, and, as with living souls, have been inform'd, by magic numbers and persuasive sound.

She likes herself, yet others hates, For that which in herself she prizes; And while she laughs at them, forgets She is the thing that she despises.

I know that’s a secret, for it’s whispered everywhere.

They are at the end of the gallery; retired to their tea and scandal, according to their ancient custom.

No, I'm no enemy to learning; it hurts not me.

In my conscience I believe the baggage loves me, for she never speaks well of me herself, nor suffers any body else to rail at me.

Courtship is to marriage, as a very witty prologue to a very dull play.