It is yours, And might we lay th'old proverb to your charge, So like you, 'tis the worse.
O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!
Your brother and my sister no sooner met but they looked; no sooner looked but they loved; no sooner loved but they sighed; no sooner sighed but they asked one another the reason; no sooner knew the reason but they sought the remedy.
Nothing but sit and sit, and eat and eat!
There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple. If the ill spirit have so fair a house, Good things will strive to dwell with 't.
Olivia. There lies your way, due west. Viola. Then westward ho!
When that the poor hath cried, Caesar hath wept. Ambition should be made of sterner stuff.
Be thou armed for some unhappy words.
Some men there are love not a gaping pig, Some that are mad if they behold a cat, And others when the bag-pipe sings i'th nose Cannot contain their urine.
Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor.