Remembrance of things past.
There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. Omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat. And we must take the current when it serves, or lose our ventures.
Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.
Thou frothy tickle-brained hedge-pig!
All dark and comfortless.
I would give all of my fame for a pot of ale and safety.