A grandma's name is little less in love than is the doting title of a mother.

I have no other but a woman's reason: I think him so, because I think him so.

Lechery, lechery; still, wars and lechery: nothing else holds fashion.

As chaste as is the bud ere it be blown.

None can cure their harms by wailing them.

This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.

Tis a blushing shame-faced spirit that mutinies in a man's bosom. It fills a man full of obstacles. It made me once restore a purse of gold that (by chance) I found. It beggars any man that keeps it.