Frailty, thy name is woman!
How wayward is this foolish love that, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse and presently, all humble, kiss the rod.
A scar nobly got is a good livery of honor.
Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time.
He that is proud eats up himself: pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle.
Let's go hand in hand, not one before another.