Quotes on Falstaff

Lord, Lord, how this world is given to lying!

Hal, if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse.

A goodly portly man, i' faith, and a corpulent; of a cheerful look, a pleasing eye, and a most noble carriage; and, as I think, his age some fifty, or, by'r Lady, inclining to threescore; and now I remember me, his name is Falstaff.

If all the year were playing holidays; To sport would be as tedious as to work.

Presume not that I am the thing I was.

Let us be Diana's foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon

What is honour? a word. What is in that word honour? what is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? he that died o' Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? no.