I remember, the players have often mentioned it as an honour to Shakespeare, that in his writing (whatsoever he penned) he never plotted out a line. My answer hath been, would he had blotted a thousand.

Ambition, like a torrent, never looks back.

If you succeed not, cast not away the quills yet, nor scratch the wainscot, beat not the poor desk, but bring all to the forge and file again; turn it new.

Popular men, They must create strange monsters, and then quell them, To make their arts seem something.

The man that is once hated, both his good and his evil deeds oppress him.

A good dog deserves a good bone.

Woman, the more careful she is about her face, the more careless about her house.