Violent fires soon burn out themselves, small showers last long, but sudden storms are short; he tires betimes that spurs too fast.
William ShakespeareDid he so often lodge in open field, In winter's cold and summer's parching heat, To conquer France, his true inheritance?
William ShakespeareLet me have men about me that are fat... Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look. He thinks too much: such men are dangerous.
William ShakespeareTo-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! 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.
William Shakespeare