Thus play I in one person many people, And none contented: sometimes am I king; Then treasons make me wish myself a beggar, And so I am: then crushing penury Persuades me I was better when a king; Then am I king'd again: and by and by Think that I am unking'd by Bolingbroke, And straight am nothing: but whate'er I be, Nor I nor any man that but man is With nothing shall be pleased, till he be eased With being nothing.

Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn.

A plague of sighing and grief! It blows a man up like a bladder.

So they loved as love in twain Had the essence but in one; Two distinct, divisions none.

If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.

That's a valiant flea that dares eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion.

I can see he's not in your good books,' said the messenger. 'No, and if he were I would burn my library.