Fool: Thou shouldst not have been old till thou hadst been wise.
Edgar [Aside]: And worse I may be yet: the worst is not
So long as we can say 'This is the worst.'
Gloucester: Tis the time's plague when madmen lead the blind.
Lear: Now, our joy,
Although our last, and least; to whose young love
The vines of France and milk of Burgundy
Strive to be interess’d; what can you say to draw
A third more opulent than your sisters?
Regan: Jesters do oft prove prophets.
Lear: Nothing will come of nothing.
Fool: For there was never yet fair woman but she made mouths in a glass.
Albany: O Goneril, you are not worth the dust which the rude wind blows in your face.
Lear: How, how, Cordelia? Mend your speech a little,
Lest you may mar your fortunes.
Lear: She may feel how sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is to have a thankless child!