Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun; it shines everywhere.
Many dream not to find, neither deserve, and yet are steeped in favors.
My language! heavens!I am the best of them that speak this speech. Were I but where 'tis spoken.
You Jig, you amble, and you lisp.
By Heaven, my soul is purg'd from grudging hate; And with my hand I seal my true heart's love
From women's eyes this doctrine I derive: They sparkle still the right Promethean fire; They are the books, the arts, the academes, That show, contain and nourish all the world.