For where is any author in the world Teaches such beauty as a woman's eye?
Thou art the Mars of malcontents.
O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend The brightest heaven of invention, A kingdom for a stage, princes to act And monarchs to behold the swelling scene!
Thou sodden-witted lord! thou hast no more brain than I have in mine elbows.
Barnes are blessings.
What's his offense? Groping for trout in a peculiar river.