Therefore another prologue must tell he is not a lion
Much rain wears the marble.
All the world's a stage, and all the men and women mearly players.
But yet I'll make assurance double sure, and take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live.
What's his offense? Groping for trout in a peculiar river.
A merry heart goes all the way, - A sad one tires inan hour.