Security is the chief enemy of mortals.

I'll note you in my book of memory.

I can see he's not in your good books,' said the messenger. 'No, and if he were I would burn my library.

He's of the colour of the nutmeg. And of the heat of the ginger.... he is pure air and fire; and the dull elements of earth and water never appear in him, but only in patient stillness while his rider mounts him; he is indeed a horse, and all other jades you may call beasts.

This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues,Was once thought honest.

A man in all the world's new fashion planted, That hath a mint of phrases in his brain.

All dark and comfortless.