What a terrible era in which idiots govern the blind.

I am indeed, sir, a surgeon to old shoes; when they are in great danger I recover them.

A great perturbation in nature, to receive at once the benefit of sleep and do the effects of watching!

I like this place and could willingly waste my time in it.

But like of each thing that in season grows.

When he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.

Scarce can I speak, my choler is so great. Oh! I could hew up rocks, and fight with flint.