I never yet did hear, That the bruis'd heart was pierced through the ear
Happy thou art not; for what thou hast not, still thou strivest to get; and what thou hast, forgettest.
Do you not know I am a woman? when I think, I must speak.
Out of this nettle - danger - we pluck this flower - safety.
Let every eye negotiate for itself and trust no agent.
Verily, I swear, it is better to be lowly born, and range with humble livers in content, than to be perked up in a glistering grief, and wear a golden sorrow.