"The Eyes are the window to your soul"
"Farewell, a long farewell to all my greatness! This is the state of man: today he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, tomorrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him: The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And - when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a-ripening - nips his root, And then he falls, as I do."
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Source: 'Henry VIII' (1613) act 3, sc. 2, l. 352
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