RUMOUR: "Upon my tongues continual slanders ride, The which in every language I pronounce, Stuffing the ears of men with false reports.
I am indeed, sir, a surgeon to old shoes; when they are in great danger I recover them.
It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.
Can one desire too much of a good thing?
The rest, is silence.
When I bestride him, I soar, I am a hawk: he trots the air; the earth sings when he touches it; the basest horn of his hoof is more musical than the pipe of Hermes.