Henry The Eighth Act 3, scene 2, 350–358 - William Shakespeare
So farewell - to the little good you bear me. Farewell? A long farewell to all my greatness! This is the state of man: today he puts forth the tender leaves of hopes, tomorrow blossoms, and bears his blushing honors thick upon him; the third day comes a frost, a killing frost, and when he thinks, good easy man, full surely his greatness is a-ripening, nips his root, and then he falls as I do.
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