Is it not strange that desire should so many years outlive performance?
Who knows himself a braggart, Let him fear this; for it will come to pass That every braggart will be found an ass.
Their lips were four red roses on a stalk.
For what good turn? Messenger: For the best turn of the bed.
There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats, For I am armed so strong in honesty That they pass by me as the idle wind
Few love to hear the sins they love to act.