[Thine] face is not worth sunburning.
Thou art a very ragged Wart.
How art thou out of breath when thou hast breathTo say to me that thou art out of breath?
The small amount of foolery wise men have makes a great show.
I will make thee think thy swan a crow.
Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,Displant a town, reverse a prince’s doom,It helps not, it prevails not.
I'll be supposed upon a book, his face is the worst thing about him.
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