I love Miranda from The Tempest by William Shakespeare. She's not as witty as Beatrice from his Much Ado About Nothing, or as clever and spunky as Portia from The Merchant of Venice, but I love her just the same.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks