Let no such man be trusted.
For where is any author in the world Teaches such beauty as a woman's eye?
Die for adultery! No: The wren goes to't, and the small gilded fly does lecher in my sight
A smile cures the wounding of a frown.
Oppose not rage while rage is in its force, but give it way a while and let it waste.
Oh! that you could turn your eyes towards the napes of your necks, and make but an interior survey of your good selves.