Bait the hook well. This fish will bite.
Say as you think and speak it from your souls.
I scorn you, scurvy companion.
I had rather be a kitten and cry mew Than one of these same metre ballet-mongers.
A man loves the meat in his youth that he cannot endure in his age.
Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears Had left the flushing of her gallèd eyes, She married. O, most wicked speed, to post With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!