The propriety of thoughts and words, which are the hidden beauties of a play, are but confusedly judged in the vehemence of action.

War is a trade of kings.

Revenge, revenge, Timotheus cries, See the Furies arise!

And plenty makes us poor.

Accurst ambition, how dearly I have bought you.

Him of the western dome, whose weighty sense Flows in fit words and heavenly eloquence.

More liberty begets desire of more; The hunger still increases with the store