I Am Wrapped In Dismal Thinking.

Friendship's Full Of Dregs.

Oh! It Offends Me To The Soul To Hear A Robust Periwig-pated Fellow, Tear A Passion To Tatters, To Very Rags, To Split The Ears Of The Groundlings.

A Whoreson Jackanapes Must Take Me Up For Swearing; As If I Borrowed Mine Oaths Of Him And Might Not Spend Them At My Pleasure. When A Gentleman Is Disposed To Swear, It Is Not For Any Standers-by To Curtail His Oaths, Ha?

Polonius: Do You Know Me, My Lord? Hamlet: Excellent Well. You Are A Fishmonger.

A Man Cannot Make Him Laugh - But That's No Marvel; He Drinks No Wine.