Give me my sin again.
GLOUCESTER: I do not know that Englishman alive With whom my soul is any jot at odds, More than the infant that is born to-night: I thank my God for my humility.
Wisely, I say, I am a bachelor.
Golden lads and girls all must as chimney sweepers come to dust.
That's a valiant flea that dares eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion.
Blood will have blood.