If music be the food of love, play on, Give me excess of it; that surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die.

So. Lie there, my art.

That's a valiant flea that dares eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion.

Lay not that flattering unction to your soul, That not your trespass but my madness speaks.

It is that fery person for all the orld, as just as you will desire; and seven hundred pounds of moneys, and gold, and silver, is her grandsire upon his death's-bed-Got deliver to a joyful resurrections!

To be generous, guiltless, and of a free disposition is to take those things for bird-bolts that you deem cannon-bullets.

I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more, is none