See how she leans her cheek upon her hand. O, that I were a glove upon that hand That I might touch that cheek!
William ShakespeareDie for adultery! No: The wren goes to't, and the small gilded fly does lecher in my sight
William ShakespeareThis is the excellent foppery of the world, that, when we are sick in fortune,--often the surfeit of our own behavior,--we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars: as if we were villains by necessity; fools by heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and treachers, by spherical predominance; drunkards, liars, and adulterers, by an enforced obedience of planetary influence; and all that we are evil in, by a divine thrusting on: an admirable evasion of whoremaster man, to lay his goatish disposition to the charge of a star.
William Shakespeare