All the world is a stage and we are merely players.

QUINCE Francis Flute, the bellows-mender. FLUTE Here, Peter Quince. QUINCE Flute, you must take Thisby on you. FLUTE What is Thisby? a wandering knight? QUINCE It is the lady that Pyramus must love. FLUTE Nay, faith, let me not play a woman; I have a beard coming.

To climb steep hills requires a slow pace at first.

I can get no remedy against this consumption of the purse: borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, but the disease is incurable.

There's her cousin, an she were not possessed with a fury, exceeds her as much in beauty as the first of May doth the last of December.

The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily untie.

And all my mother came into mine eyes And gave me up to tears.