Do you not know I am a woman? when I think, I must speak.
The moon's an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun.
Thou shalt be free As mountain winds: but then exactly do All points of my command.
He kills her in her own humor.
Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves, where manners ne'er were preached.
Perseverance... keeps honor bright: to have done, is to hang quite out of fashion, like a rusty nail in monumental mockery.