A woman's thought runs before her actions.

But thought's the slave of life, and life time's fool.

I find my zenith doth depend upon A most auspicious star, whose influence If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes Will ever after droop.

I have seen better faces in my time Than stands on any shoulder that I see Before me at this instant.

Many can brook the weather that love not the wind.

My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that color.

Like a barber's chair that fits all buttocks.