Ten kisses short as one, one long as twenty.

Present fears are less than horrible imaginings.

There is nothing serious in Mortality

There's some ill planet reigns: I must be patient till the heavens look With an aspect more favourable.

I am joined with no foot land-rakers, no long-staff, sixpenny strikers, none of these mad, mustachio purple-hued maltworms, but with nobility and tranquillity.

Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought.

You dull ass will not mend his pace with beating.