Here comes a man of comfort, whose advice Hath often stilled my brawling discontent.
There's place and means for every man alive.
O, let me kiss that hand! KING LEAR: Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality.
I like this place and could willingly waste my time in it.
thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most sharp sauce.
He's of the colour of the nutmeg. And of the heat of the ginger.... he is pure air and fire; and the dull elements of earth and water never appear in him, but only in patient stillness while his rider mounts him; he is indeed a horse, and all other jades you may call beasts.