William Shakespeare

(Cloten:) Thou villain base,
Know'st me not by my clothes?
(Guiderius:) No, nor thy tailor, rascal,
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(Cloten:) Thou villain base,
Know'st me not by my clothes?
(Guiderius:) No, nor thy tailor, rascal,
Who is thy grandfather. He made those clothes,
Which, as it seems, make thee.

What a case am I in. -As You Like It. Epilogue.

What a case am I in. -As You Like It. Epilogue.

Oft expectation fails, and most oft there,
Where most it promises.

Oft expectation fails, and most oft there,
Where most it promises.

Through tattered clothes small vices do appear;
Robes and furred gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold,
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Through tattered clothes small vices do appear;
Robes and furred gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold,
And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks;
Arm it in rags, a pygmy's straw does pierce it.

One out of suits with fortune. -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 2.

One out of suits with fortune. -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 2.