A man cannot make him laugh; but that's no marvel; he drinks no wine.... If I had a thousand sons, the first human principle I would teach them should be, to forswear thin potations and to addict themselves to sack.

I had rather be a kitten and cry mew Than one of these same metre ballet-mongers.

Old Time the clock-setter.

O tiger's heart wrapped in a woman's hide!

O, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven

in that small [time] most greatly lived this star of England: Fortune made his sword, By which the world's best garden he achiev'd And left it to his son imperial lord. Henry the Sixth, in infant bands crown'd King of France and England did this King succeed; Whose state so many of had the managing, That they lost France and made his England bleed.

My hands are of your color, but I shame to wear a heart so white.