King Henry: But what a point, my lord, your falcon made, And what a pitch she flew above the rest! To see how God in all his creatures works! Yea, man and birds are fain of climbing high. Suffolk: No marvel, an it like your majesty, My lord protectors hawks do tower so well; They know their masters loves to be aloft, And bears his thoughts above his falcon's pitch. Gloucester: My lord, 'tis but a base ignoble mind That mounts no higher than a bird can soar.

This wimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy, this Senior Junior, giant dwarf...Cupid.

Time ... thou ceaseless lackey to eternity.

You are an alchemist; make gold of that.

Keep time! How sour sweet music is when time is broke and no proportion kept! So is it in the music of men's lives. I wasted time and now doth time waste me.

How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child!

I will make thee think thy swan a crow.