All discourses but my own afflict me; they seem harsh, impertinent, and irksome
How ready is heaven to those that pray!
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.
Let argument bear no unmusical sound.
Weigh the meaning and look not at the words.
Well, as he brews, so shall he drink.