Madam, you have bereft me of all words, Only my blood speaks to you in my veins.
Tis a happy thing To be the father unto many sons.
Love reasons without reason.
What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?
How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green!
A man cannot make him laugh; but that's no marvel; he drinks no wine.... If I had a thousand sons, the first human principle I would teach them should be, to forswear thin potations and to addict themselves to sack.