His neigh is like the bidding of a monarch, and his countenance enforces homage. He is indeed a horse.
I am the Prince of Wales; and think not, Percy, To share with me in glory any more: Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere.
Allow not nature more than nature needs.
The robbed that smiles, steals something from the thief.
But no perfection is so absolute, That some impurity doth not pollute.
He that dies this year is quit for the next.