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Where is the man who has the power and skill To stem the torrent of a woman's will? For if she will, she will, you may depend on't; And if she won't, she won't; so there's an end on't.

Man was made when Nature was but an apprentice, but woman when she was a skilful mistress of her art.

What is lighter than the wind? A feather. What is lighter than a feather? Fire. What lighter than a fire? A woman. What lighter than a woman? Nothing.

I think Nature hath lost the mould Where she her shape did take; Or else I doubt if Nature could So fair a creature make.

It is a thing very displeasing to me when the hen speaks and the cock is silent.

The virtue of her lively looks Excels the precious stone; I wish to have none other books To read or look upon.

Loveliest of women! heaven is in thy soul, Beauty and virtue shine forever round thee, Bright'ning each other! thou art all divine!

Divination seems heightened and raised to its highest power in woman.

Oh, the gladness of their gladness when they're glad, And the sadness of their sadness when they're sad; But the gladness of their gladness, and the sadness of their sadness, Are as nothing to their badness when they're bad.

Oh, the shrewdness of their shrewdness when they are shrewd, And the rudeness of their rudeness when they're rude; But the shrewdness of their shrewdness and the rudeness of their rudeness, Are as nothing to their goodness when they're good.

On one she smiles, and he was blest; She smiles elsewhere--we make a din! But 'twas not love which heaved her breast, Fair child!--it was the bliss within.

Woman's love is writ in water, Woman's faith is traced in sand. - Sir Robert Aytoun of Kincaldie,

But woman's grief is like a summer storm, Short as it violent is.

Not she with trait'rous kiss her Saviour stung, Not she denied Him with unholy tongue; She, while apostles shrank, could danger brave, Last at His cross, and earliest at His grave.

You see, dear, it is not true that woman was made from man's rib; she was really made from his funny bone.

Oh, woman, perfect woman! what distraction Was meant to mankind when thou wast made a devil! What an inviting hell invented.

Then, my good girls, be more than women, wise: At least be more than I was; and be sure You credit anything the light gives life to Before a man.

One is not born a woman, one becomes one.

"And now, Madam," I addressed her, "we shall try who shall get the breeches."

And in that day seven women shall take hold of one man, saying, We will eat our own bread, and wear our own apparel: only let us be called by thy name, to take away our reproach.