Nature does require her times of preservation.
I am a feather for each wind that blows
What, man, defy the devil. Consider, he's an enemy to mankind.
I have lived long enough. My way of life is to fall into the sere, the yellow leaf, and that which should accompany old age, as honor, love, obedience, troops of friends I must not look to have.
To be slow in words is a woman's only virtue.
Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were but little happy, if I could say how much. Lady, as you are mine, I am yours: I give away myself for you and dote upon the exchange.