Thou hast nor youth nor age But as it were an after dinner sleep Dreaming of both.
We will meet; and there we may rehearse most obscenely and courageously.
we are the lords of all eternity
The hideous god of war.
The sense of death is most in apprehension, And the poor beetle, that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies.
What Time hath scanted men in hair, he hath given them in wit.