What need the bridge much broader than the flood?
My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that color.
The head is not more native to the heart.
The whirligig of time brings in his revenges.
I will be treble-sinewed, hearted, breathed, And fight maliciously; for when mine hours Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives Of me for jests; but now I'll set my teeth And send to darkness all that stop me.
How poor are they that have have not patients.