Maybe times are never strange to women: it is just one continuous monotonous thing full of the repeated follies of their menfolks.

Menfolks listens to somebody because of what he says. Women don't. They don't care what he said. They listens because of what he is.

You can't beat women anyhow and that if you are wise or dislike trouble and uproar you don't even try to.

But I would still reply, that the knavery and folly of men are such common phenomena, that I should rather believe the most extraordinary events to arise from their concurrence, than admit of so signal a violation of the laws of nature

Exactness is the sublimity of fools. [Fr., L'exactitude est le sublime des sots.]

Defend me, therefore, common sense, say From reveries so airy, from the toil Of dropping buckets into empty wells, And growing old in drawing nothing up.