If her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her, she would infect to the north star!
Confusion now hath made his masterpiece.
For he was likely, had he been put on, to have proved most royally.
What the great ones do, the less will prattle of
Tis in my memory lock'd, And you yourself shall keep the key of it.
Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the toothache; but a man that were to sleep your sleep, and a hangman to help him to bed, I think he would change places with his officer; for look you, sir, you know not which way you shall go.