You cram these words into mine ears against The stomach of my sense.
I wasted time, and now doth time waste me.
Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty; for in my youth I never did apply hot and rebellious liquors in my blood; and did not, with unbashful forehead, woo the means of weakness and debility: therefore my age is as a lusty winter, frosty but kindly.
In jest, there is truth.
I am a man more sinned against than sinning
I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; A stage where every man must play a part, And mine is a sad one.