In me the need to talk is a primary impulse, and I can't help saying right off what comes to my tongue.

A knight errant who turns mad for a reason deserves neither merit nor thanks. The thing is to do it without cause.

I can tell where my own shoe pinches me; and you must not think, sir, to catch old birds with chaff.

Take care, your worship, those things over there are not giants but windmills.