a foolish conceit of this halsening might the sooner help it onwards

Finally, if you have no one to fly a kite with, you can kite alone.

Sir Toby Belch: My lady's a Cataian, we are politicians, Malvolio's a Peg-a-Ramsey, and 'Three merry men be we.' Am not I consanguineous? am I not of her blood? Tillyvally. Lady!

He had not quite decided whether to be a physicist or a chemist; probably he would have chosen the trans-Uranian borderland between the two.