Related:

• What private griefs they have, alas, I know not. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Julius Caesar -- Act iii, Sc.
  2...
• The game is up. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Cymbeline -- Act iii, Sc. 3
• It is no act of common passage, but A strain of rareness.
  -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Cymbeline -- Act iii, Sc. 4...
• An angel! or, if not, An earthly paragon! -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Cymbeline -- Act iii, Sc.
  6...
• I have not slept one wink. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Cymbeline -- Act iii, Sc. 4
• Prouder than rustling in unpaid-for silk. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Cymbeline -- Act iii, Sc.
  3...
• So slippery that The fear 's as bad as falling. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Cymbeline -- Act iii, Sc.
  3...
• Thou art all the comfort The gods will diet me with.
  -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Cymbeline -- Act iii, Sc. 4...
• And put My clouted brogues from off my feet. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Cymbeline -- Act iv, Sc.
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