Gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new.

Gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new.

Each Bond-street buck conceits, unhappy elf;
He shows his clothes! alas! he shows himself.
O that they read more

Each Bond-street buck conceits, unhappy elf;
He shows his clothes! alas! he shows himself.
O that they knew, these overdrest self-lovers,
What hides the body oft the mind discovers.

When his wife asked him to change clothes to meet the German
Ambassador: "If they want to see me, read more

When his wife asked him to change clothes to meet the German
Ambassador: "If they want to see me, here I am. If they want to
see my clothes, open my closet and show them my suits."

And said to myself, as I lit my cigar,
"Supposing a man had the wealth of the Czar
read more

And said to myself, as I lit my cigar,
"Supposing a man had the wealth of the Czar
Of the Russias to boot, for the rest of his days,
On the whole do you think he would have much to spare
If he married a woman with nothing to wear?"

A sweet disorder in the dresse
Kindles in cloathes a wantonnesse.

A sweet disorder in the dresse
Kindles in cloathes a wantonnesse.

He that is proud of the rustling of his silks, like a madman,
laughs at the ratling of his read more

He that is proud of the rustling of his silks, like a madman,
laughs at the ratling of his fetters. For indeed, Clothes ought
to be our remembrancers of our lost innocency.

Not caring, so that sumpter-horse, the back
Be hung with gaudy trappings, in what course
Yea, rags read more

Not caring, so that sumpter-horse, the back
Be hung with gaudy trappings, in what course
Yea, rags most beggarly, they clothe the soul.

So tedious is this day
As is the night before some festival
To an impatient child that read more

So tedious is this day
As is the night before some festival
To an impatient child that hath new robes
And may not wear them.

(Cloten:) Thou villain base,
Know'st me not by my clothes?
(Guiderius:) No, nor thy tailor, rascal,
read more

(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.