However keen the insight of Shakespeare may have been into the hearts of his high-born characters, he had no conception of the unity of the human race. For him the prince and the peasant were not of the same blood.
Ungracious wretch, fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves, where manners ne'er were preached!
Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have Immortal longings in me.
Hark, how hard he fetches breath.
Coward dogs most spend their mouths when what they seem to threaten runs far before them.
Time is a very bankrout and owes more than he's worth to season.