Hamlet: Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring? Ophelia: 'Tis brief, my lord. Hamlet: As woman's love.
I do not set my life at a pin's fee, And for my soul, what can it do to that, Being a thing immortal as itself?
The time is out of joint : O cursed spite, that ever I was born to set it right!
A man can smile and smile and be a villain.
Nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remembered!
I must be cruel only to be kind; Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind.
A violet in the youth of primy nature, Forward, not permanent--sweet, not lasting; The perfume and suppliance of a minute; No more.
But to my mind, though I am native here, And to the manner born, it is a custom, More honored in the breach than the observance.
Words without thoughts never to heaven go.
There is special providence in the fall of a sparrow.
Murder most foul, as in the best it it; But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.
From this time forth My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!
How is it that the clouds still hang on you?
The native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought; and enterprises of great pitch and moment, With this regard, their currents turn awry, and lose the name of action.
My words fly up, my thoughts remain below
woah is me to have seen what i seen see what i see
That if you be honest and fair, your honesty should admit no discourse to your beauty.
'Tis better to bear the ills we have than fly to others that we know not of.
What should such fellows as I do crawling between earth and heaven?
He is dead and gone, lady, He is dead and gone; At his head a grass-green turf, At his heels a stone.
