Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves, where manners ne'er were preached.

Nature her custom holds, Let shame say what it will.

Every offense is not a hate at first.

A woman's fitness comes by fits.

Master, go on, and I will follow thee To the last gasp with truth and loyalty.

The silence often of pure innocence persuades when speaking fails.

But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on, Leaving no tract behind.