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– William Shakespeare
Thou fresh piece of excellent witchcraft!
So lean that blasts of January Would blow you through and through.
You are rough and hairy.
My wife’s a hobby-horse.
Either thou art most ignorant by age, or thou wert born a fool.
I hate thee, Pronounce thee a gross lout, a mindless slave, Or else a hovering temporizer that Canst with thine eyes at once see good and evil, Inclining to them both.
Is there no manners left among maids?
She longed to eat adders’ heads and toads carbonadoed.
His garments are rich, but he wears them not handsomely.
Love hath made thee a tame snake.
The first thing we do, let’s kill all the lawyers.
Thou art unfit for any place but hell.
Down, down to hell; and say I sent thee thither.
Thou cam’st on earth to make the earth my hell.
Wedded be thou to the hags of hell.