If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If >>
What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would sm >>
He jests at scars that never felt a wound. >>
An aged man is but a paltry thing, a tattered coat upon a stick >>
The aging process has you firmly in its grasp if you never get the urg >>
You must not pity me because my sixtieth year finds me still astonishe >>
Have you not a moist eye, a dry hand, a yellow cheek, a white beard, a decreasing leg, an increasing belly? Is not your voice broken, your wind short, your chin double, your wit single, and every part about you blasted with antiquity?