Away, you cut-purse rascal! you filthy bung, away! By this wine, I'll thrust my knife in your mouldy chaps, an you play the saucy cuttle with me. Away, you bottle-ale rascal! you basket-hilt stale juggler, you!

Striving to better, oft we mar what’s well.

I would there were no age between sixteen and three-and-twenty, or that youth would sleep out the rest; for there is nothing in the between but getting wenches with child, wronging the ancientry, stealing, fighting

No doubt they rose up early to observe the rite of May; and, hearing our intent, Came here in grace of our solemnity.

'Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed, When not to be, receives reproach of being, And the just pleasure lost, which is so deemed, Not by our feeling, but by others' seeing.

Faith, there hath been many great men that have flattered the people who ne'er loved them.

I had rather have a fool to make me merry than experience to make me sad and to travel for it too!