Britain is A world by itself, and we will nothing pay For wearing our own noses.
The big round tears Cours'd one another down his innocent nose, In piteous chase.
Macduff: What three things does drink especially provoke? Porter: Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and urine.
O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible, As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a steeple.
What, no more ceremony? See, my women! Against the blown rose may they stop their nose That kneel'd unto the buds.