Tush! Fear not, my lord, we will not stand to prate; Talkers are no good doers: be assured We come to use our hands and not our tongues.
'Tis best to weigh the enemy more mighty than he seems.
Making night hideous.
That in the captains but a choleric word Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy.
Man and wife, being two, are one in love.
Why, what's the matter, That you have such a February face, So full of frost, of storm and cloudiness?