Women being the weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the walls.

And when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And asleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me must be heard of, say, I taught thee.

I was not born under a rhyming planet, nor I cannot woo to in festival terms.

In nature there's no blemish but the mind. None can be called deformed but the unkind.

When thou cam'st first, Thou strok'st me and made much of me; wouldst give me Water with berries in't; and teach me how To name the bigger light, and how the less, That burn by day and night; and then I loved thee And showed thee all the qualities o' th' isle, The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile.

And worse I may be yet: the worst is not So long as we can say 'This is the worst.

The appurtenance of welcome is fashion and ceremony.