William Shakespeare — "The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes."
The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes.
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More from William Shakespeare
"Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown."
"When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions."
"Give me your hand, Terrestrial cherubim!"
"The more pity that fools may not speak wisely what wise men do foolishly."
"What, have I 'scaped love-letters in the holiday-time of my beauty, and am I now a subject for your mouth?"