A woman's thought runs before her actions.
O that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth! Then with passion would I shake the world.
Be like you thought our love would last too long, if it were chain'd together
Men should be what they seem; Or those that be not, would they might seem none!.
The soul of this man is his clothes.
Bring me a constant woman to her husband, One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure, And to that woman, when she has done most, Yet will I add an honour-a great patience.