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| John Bartlett (1820–1905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919. |
| Page 160 |
| William Shakespeare. (1564–1616) (continued) |
| 1881 |
| So slippery that The fear ’s as bad as falling. |
| Cymbeline. Act iii. Sc. 3. |
| 1882 |
| The game is up. |
| Cymbeline. Act iii. Sc. 3. |
| 1883 |
| No, ’t is slander, Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongue Outvenoms all the worms of Nile, whose breath Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie All corners of the world. |
| Cymbeline. Act iii. Sc. 4. |
| 1884 |
| Some jay of Italy, Whose mother was her painting, hath betray’d him: Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion. |
| Cymbeline. Act iii. Sc. 4. |
| 1885 |
| It is no act of common passage, but A strain of rareness. |
| Cymbeline. Act iii. Sc. 4. |
| 1886 |
| I have not slept one wink. |
| Cymbeline. Act iii. Sc. 4. |
| 1887 |
| Thou art all the comfort The gods will diet me with. |
| Cymbeline. Act iii. Sc. 4. |
| 1888 |
| Weariness Can snore upon the flint, when resty sloth Finds the down pillow hard. |
| Cymbeline. Act iii. Sc. 6. |
| 1889 |
| An angel! or, if not, An earthly paragon! |
| Cymbeline. Act iii. Sc. 6. |
| 1890 |
| Triumphs for nothing and lamenting toys Is jollity for apes and grief for boys. |
| Cymbeline. Act iv. Sc. 2. |
| 1891 |
| And put My clouted brogues from off my feet. |
| Cymbeline. Act iv. Sc. 2. |
| 1892 |
| Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. |
| Cymbeline. Act iv. Sc. 2. |
| 1893 |
| O, never say hereafter But I am truest speaker. You call’d me brother When I was but your sister. |
| Cymbeline. Act v. Sc. 5. |
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