“When I bestride him, I soar, I am a hawk: he trots the air; the earth sings when he touches it; the basest horn of his hoof is more musical than the pipe of Hermes. ”

“He that hath a beard is more than a youth, and he that hath no beard is less than a man. He that is more than a youth is not for me, and he that is less than a man, I am not for him.”

“I am but mad north-north-west. When the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a handsaw.”

“God made him, and therefore let him pass for a man. In truth, I know it is a sin to be a mocker, but he! why, he hath a horse better than the Neapolitan’s, a better bad habit of frowning than the Count Palentine; he is every man in no man. If a throstle sing, he falls straight a-cap’ring. He will fence with his own shadow. If I should marry him, I should marry twenty husbands.”

“He's of the colour of the nutmeg. And of the heat of the ginger.... he is pure air and fire; and the dull elements of earth and water never appear in him, but only in patient stillness while his rider mounts him; he is indeed a horse, and all other jades you may call beasts.”

“Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow worldLike a Colossus; and we petty menWalk under his huge legs, and peep aboutTo find ourselves dishonourable graves.”

“I know you all, and will awhile upholdThe unyoked humour of your idleness.Yet herein will I imitate the sun,Who doth permit the base contagious cloudsTo smother up his beauty from the world,That when he please again to be himself,Being wanted, he may be more wondered atBy breaking through the foul and ugly mistsOf vapours that did seem to strangle him.If all the year were playing holidays,To sport would be as tedious as to work;But when they seldom come, they wished-for come,And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.So, when this loose behaviour I throw offAnd pay the debt I never promisèd,By how much better than my word I am,By so much shall I falsify men’s hopes;And like bright metal on a sullen ground,My reformation, glitt’ring o’er my fault,Shall show more goodly and attract more eyesThan that which hath no foil to set it off.I’ll so offend to make offence a skill,Redeeming time when men think least I will.”