Our hours in love have wings; in absence, crutches.
Thou strange piece of wild nature!
You know, one had as good be out of the world, as out of the fashion.
Prithee don't screw your wit beyond the compass of good manners.
Tea! Thou soft, thou sober, sage, and venerable liquid, thou innocent pretence for bringing the wicked of both sexes together in a morning; thou female tongue-running, smile-smoothing, heart-opening, wink-tipping cordial, to whose glorious insipidity I owe the happiest moment of my life, let me fall prostrate thus, and adore thee.