Hamlet:
What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how
infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and
admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like
a god! the beauty of the world, the paragon of animalsand yet,
to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me
nor woman neither, though by your smiling you seem to say so.