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(Cornwall:) Thou art a strange fellow. A tailor make a man?
(Kent:) A tailor, sir. A stonecutter or a read more
(Cornwall:) Thou art a strange fellow. A tailor make a man?
(Kent:) A tailor, sir. A stonecutter or a painter could not
have made him ill, though they had been but two years o' th'
trade.
One commending a Tayler for his dexteritie in his profession,
another standing by ratified his opinion, saying tailors had read more
One commending a Tayler for his dexteritie in his profession,
another standing by ratified his opinion, saying tailors had
their business at their fingers' ends.
- William Hazlitt,
As if thou e'er wert angry
But with thy tailor! and yet that poor shred
Can bring read more
As if thou e'er wert angry
But with thy tailor! and yet that poor shred
Can bring more to the making up of a man,
Than can be hoped from thee; thou art his creature;
And did he not, each morning, new create thee,
Thou'dst stink and be forgotten.
(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.
Great is the Tailor, but not the greatest.
Great is the Tailor, but not the greatest.
It takes nine tailors to make a man.
[Fr., Il faut neuf tailleurs pour faire un homme.]
It takes nine tailors to make a man.
[Fr., Il faut neuf tailleurs pour faire un homme.]
Sister, look ye,
How, by a new creation of my tailor's
I've shook off old mortality.
Sister, look ye,
How, by a new creation of my tailor's
I've shook off old mortality.
Th' embroider'd suit at least he deem'd his prey;
That suit an unpaid tailor snatched away.
Th' embroider'd suit at least he deem'd his prey;
That suit an unpaid tailor snatched away.
Thy gown? Why, ay--come, tailor, let us see't.
O mercy, God, what masquing stuff is there?
What's read more
Thy gown? Why, ay--come, tailor, let us see't.
O mercy, God, what masquing stuff is there?
What's this, a sleeve? 'Tis like a demi-cannon.
What, up and down carved like an apple tart?
Here's snip and nip and cut and slish and slash,
Like to a censer in a barber's shop.
Why, what's a devil's name, tailor, call'st thou this?