Some smack of age in you, some relish of the saltness of time.
Thou whoreson, senseless villain!
The commonwealth of Athens is become a forest of beasts.
'Sblood, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried neat's tongue, you bull's pizzle, you stock-fish! O for breath to utter what is like thee! you tailor's-yard, you sheath, you bowcase; you vile standing-tuck!
My business was great, and in such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy.
Striving to better, oft we mar whatโs well.