Let me not to the marriage of true minds
She told her, while she kept it, 'Twould make her amiable and subdue my father Entirely to her love, but if she lost it Or made a gift of it, my father's eye Should hold her loathed and his spirits should hunt After new fancies.
Not stepping over the bounds of modesty.
Let me be ignorant, and in nothing good, but graciously to know I am no better.
This goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory.
Grief best is pleased with grief's society.