When we our betters see bearing our woes, We scarcely think our miseries our foes.
Parting is such sweet sorrow
A politician... one that would circumvent God.
Will you walk out of the air, my lord? HAMLET Into my grave.
O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock The meat it feeds on.
Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy.