Those that much covet are with gain so fond, For what they have not, that which they possess They scatter and unloose it from their bond, And so, by hoping more, they have but less; Or, gaining more, the profit of excess Is but to surfeit, and such griefs sustain, That they prove bankrupt in this poor-rich gain.
William ShakespeareA goodly portly man, i' faith, and a corpulent; of a cheerful look, a pleasing eye, and a most noble carriage; and, as I think, his age some fifty, or, by'r Lady, inclining to threescore; and now I remember me, his name is Falstaff.
William ShakespeareFrom this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered- We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother; be he neโer so vile, This day shall gentle his condition; And gentlemen in England now-a-bed Shall think themselves accursโd they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispinโs day.
William Shakespeare