That's a valiant flea that dares eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion.
Men should be what they seem; Or those that be not, would they might seem none!.
I'll go find a shadow, and sigh till he come" (Phebe)
What is honour? a word. What is in that word honour? what is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? he that died o' Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? no.
Pleasure and action make the hours seem short.
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more; it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.