By medicine life may be prolonged, yet death will seize the doctor too.
Truth needs no color; beauty, no pencil.
How many a holy and obsequious tear hath dear religious love stolen from mine eye, as interest of the dead!
Alas, their love may be call'd appetite. No motion of the liver, but the palate
If your mind dislike anything obey it
QUINCE Francis Flute, the bellows-mender. FLUTE Here, Peter Quince. QUINCE Flute, you must take Thisby on you. FLUTE What is Thisby? a wandering knight? QUINCE It is the lady that Pyramus must love. FLUTE Nay, faith, let me not play a woman; I have a beard coming.