Our purses shall be proud, our garments poor; for 'tis the mind that makes the body rich
Tis beauty that doth oft make women proud; but, God He knows, thy share thereof is small.
Be lion-mettled, proud, and take no care Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are!
Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds.
From you have I been absent in the spring, When proud pied April, dressed in all his trim, Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing.
I will instruct my sorrows to be proud For grief is proud an't makes his owner stoop
Man, proud man, dressed in a little brief authority, like an angry ape, play such fantastic tricks before high heaven as make the angels weep
Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania
Man, proud man, Drest in a little brief authority, Most ignorant of what he's most assured.
Small things make base men proud.
She says I am not fair, that I lack manners; She calls me proud, and that she could not love me, Were man as rare as Phoenix.
O Death, made proud with pure and princely beauty!
Report of fashions in proud Italy Whose manners still our tardy-apish nation Limps after in base imitation
If ever thou be'st bound in thy scarf and beaten, thou shalt find what it is to be proud of thy bondage.
Look, what a horse should have he did not lack, Save a proud rider on his back.
Not proud you have, but thankful that you have. Proud can I never be of what I hate, but thankful even for hate that is meant love.
He that is proud eats up himself: pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle.
He that is proud eats up himself; pride in his glass, his trumpet, his chronicle; and whatever praises itself but in the deed, devours the deed in the praise