I thank God I am not a woman, to be touched in so many giddy offences as He hath generally taxed their whole their whole sex withal.
...an old man is twice a child.
This goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory.
So musical a discord, such sweet thunder.
Graze on my lips; and if those hills be dry, stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie.
What the vengeance, could he not speak 'em fair?