To climb steep hills requires a slow pace at first.
I would fain die a dry death.
What e'er thou art, act well thy part.
Kindness in women, not their beauteous looks, Shall win my love.
She's beautiful, and therefore to be wooed; She is a woman, therefore to be won.
Madam, you have bereft me of all words, Only my blood speaks to you in my veins.