“A piece of work that will make sick men whole.”

“But are not some whole that we must make sick?”

“Good; and what of him?ALEXANDERThey say he is a very man per se,And stands alone.CRESSIDASo do all men, unless they are drunk, sick, or have nolegs.”

“The small amount of foolery wise men have makes a great show.”

“What piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving, how express and admirable in action, how like an angel in apprehension, how like a god! The beauty of the world. The paragon of animals. And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust?”

“Lips, let sour words go by and language end:What is amiss plague and infection mend!Graves only be men's works and death their gain!Sun, hide thy beams! Timon hath done his reign.”

“For this relief much thanks. 'Tis bitter cold, and I am sick at heart.”