Adversity makes strange bedfellows.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May.
QUINCE Francis Flute, the bellows-mender. FLUTE Here, Peter Quince. QUINCE Flute, you must take Thisby on you. FLUTE What is Thisby? a wandering knight? QUINCE It is the lady that Pyramus must love. FLUTE Nay, faith, let me not play a woman; I have a beard coming.
'Tis better to bear the ills we have than fly to others that we know not of.
Well, I will find you twenty lascivious turtles ere one chaste man.
A table-full of welcome!