Cheerily to sea; the signs of war advance: No king of England, if not king of France

Such tricks hath strong imagination, That, if it would but apprehend some joy, It comprehends some bringer of that joy; Or in the night, imagining some fear, How easy is a bush supposed a bear!

This making of Christians will raise the price of hogs.

I’ll look to like, if looking liking move; But no more deep will I endart mine eye than your consent gives strength to make it fly.

Ingrateful man with liquorish draughts, and morsels unctuous, greases his pure mind that from it all consideration slips.

Grace and remembrance be to you both.

Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?