Some smack of age in you, some relish of the saltness of time.
What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her?
That's a valiant flea that dares eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion.
Every why hath a wherefore.
There is a tide in the affairs of men
In nature there's no blemish but the mind. None can be called deformed but the unkind.