All the world's a stage,

And all the men and women merely players.

They have their exits and their entrances;

And one man in his time plays many parts,

His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,

Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.

And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel

And shining morning face, creeping like snail

Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,

Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad

Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,

Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard;

Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,

Seeking the bubble reputation

Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,

In fair round belly with good capon lined,

With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,

Full of wise saws and modern instances;

And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts

Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,

With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;

His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide

For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,

Turning again toward childish treble, pipes

And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,

That ends this strange eventful history,

Is second childishness and mere oblivion,

Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

The big round tears

Coursed one another down his innocent nose

In piteous chase.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 1.

The dawn is overcast, the morning lowers,

And heavily in clouds brings on the day,

The great, the important day, big with the fate

Of Cato and of Rome.

Joseph Addison (1672-1719): Cato. Act i. Sc. 1.

Lo, when two dogs are fighting in the streets,

With a third dog one of the two dogs meets;

With angry teeth he bites him to the bone,

And this dog smarts for what that dog has done.

Henry Fielding (1707-1754): Tom Thumb the Great. Act i. Sc. 6.